#alpha!ianthe

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Knocks kept coming on the door, frequently enough to wake Feyre from her sleep. She opened her eyes to see sunlight still coming through the windows, though they were lesser in intensity now.

Her eyes felt puffy and uncomfortable, and her throat was dry and scratchy. But she didn't move.

She couldn’t move. Not after all of the horrid words thrown at her in the past two days. They probably just wanted to make sure she was alive, anyway.

The door cracked open anyways, her room flooding with the scent of an alpha- Lucien.

"Feyre? Did you want to come down to dinner?" He asked softly as he entered the room, making sure to shut the door behind him.

Feyre shook her head as visibly as she could from where she was still curled into herself.

"Do you want me to have something brought up here for you?"

She didn't think she could stand to eat anything right now, not with the way her stomach was churning and her brain was hissing back Ianthe's words at her.

"No," Feyre whispered as Lucien sat on her bed. He placed a hand on her shoulder gently, his warmth so soothing. He brushed a bit of hair away from her face after, running his thumb across her cheek softly.

"Is everything okay, Feyre? Did Ianthe say something to you?"

A bitter laugh left Feyre's lips. "Yes, Lucien. She did. She has made it clear to me that I am a horrid omega, and my body..." She paused, choking on tears. "My body is awful as well. I would rather spend the evening alone, and avoid any more of her wrath for being such a failure."

Lucien's scent filled with anger, and Feyre shrunk away from his touch. "Feyre, you are not a horrible omega, and your body is your body, it is perfect the way it is. You are actually quite a wonderful omega, if you'll allow me to say that," Lucien consoled, hand returning to stroke her hair. "You have gone through so much, and have only been experiencing your secondary gender for a year. You are doing perfectly, Feyre," He said, a slight alpha commanding tone to his voice. It soothed Feyre's fears, though, the fact that he was so adamant that Feyre was not what Ianthe had claimed her to be. "Tamlin is lucky to have you," he added, and those were the words that made the dam in Feyre's eyes break once more.

Feyre cried for a few minutes, Lucien’s hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Thank you, Lucien,” Feyre sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I still would rather not go to the dining room tonight, that’s… too much pressure.”

“Would you let me have Aine bring you a tray of food?” Lucien asked with a smile.

Feyre nodded after a moment. She could eat, if Lucien wanted her to.

“Good, I’ll make sure it’s sent up as soon as possible.” Lucien stood from the bed, but turned to Feyre before he left. “For what it’s worth, Feyre, I think Ianthe is just jealous of you,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “You are much more beautiful than her, and you’re Prythian’s beloved Cursebreaker. What does some cowardly priestess have that compares to you in any way?”

Feyre gave Lucien a watery smile. “Thank you,” she whispered, and he turned to the door and left her room, softly closing the door behind him.

A few minutes later there was a knock on Feyre's door, only opening after Feyre said it was okay. Alis entered the room, followed by Aine who was carrying a tray of food. She set the tray on Feyre's vanity, and gave a tilt of her head to Feyre before leaving the room.

"Good evening, Feyre," Alis said softly as she approached her in her bed, extending a hand for her to take. "If you eat at the vanity, I can braid your hair for you, hmm?"

The thought of Alis's gentle hands carding through her hair sounded lovely, and Feyre took her hand, exiting her nest. She sat in the chair at the vanity, leaning back against it. Feyre was exhausted.

"Try and eat, I promise it will make you feel better," Alis said as she began brushing out Feyre's hair gently.

Feyre scrunched her nose, but did as she asked, picking up her fork and stabbing a bite of salad. She was grateful it wasn't something heavier, but couldn't help but wonder if Ianthe had picked it for her specifically.

Alis's gentle hands soothed Feyre's senses, and by the time she had finished a comfortable plait to sleep in, Feyre had finished as much of her salad as she could bear at the moment.

"If you ever need to talk to someone, Feyre, I'm here to listen. And I won't tell a soul whatever you trust me with, okay?" Alis assured as she met Feyre's eyes in the mirror.

Feyre sighed. "I might take you up on that soon, but... I just want to sleep right now," Feyre said sadly.

Alis gave her a warm smile, squeezing Feyre's shoulders before she stepped away from her. "Just know that you have people here for you, Feyre. And if I'm being honest, I wouldn't tell Ianthe a peep even if she commanded me to. I'm not too fond of her," Alis said in a hushed tone, grinning as she did. "Did you need anything else before bed?" The beta asked, her eyes taking quick stock of the room.

Feyre shook her head as she stood from the vanity. "No, I think I'll be fine. Thank you, Alis."

"It's no problem, dear," Alis said as she grabbed the mostly eaten tray of food. "Sleep well."

"You as well, Alis," Feyre said as she followed her to the door, shutting it behind her. Feyre made her way back to her bed, sinking into the mattress and burying herself under the covers.

It once only when she was still and alone that insults began to float around her head again. Omega whore. Fat. Desperate.

She cried herself to sleep once again.

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Lucien woke her again, this time in the crisp Spring morning air.

He had swung into her room at around nine, and asked her, "Feyre, would you like to join me for breakfast in the gardens again?"

Feyre was silent for a moment. "No. Could we do breakfast in here instead?"

Lucien thought on it, then nodded in agreement. "I'll be right back."

He left the room, and Feyre took the time to freshen herself up slightly, brushing her teeth and splashing some water on her face. She looked... dreadful, in her opinion. Her face was pale, with dark circles under her eyes that had only gotten worse overnight. Feyre sighed, and took the tie out of her hair and began undoing the braid Alis had so gently put in for her.

Lucien returned just as Feyre was finished brushing out her hair. He had a tray with two plates on it, both loaded with food. Feyre got back onto her bed, sitting near the end so that Lucien could pull the vanity chair over to the edge of the bed. He set the tray in front of her carefully, and Feyre was happy to see that they had nearly equal amounts of food- bacon specifically.

They ate in a comfortable silence for most of the meal, which Feyre was thankful for. She didn't feel like talking about Tamlin or Ianthe's hurtful words, or what the lack of apology from both of them meant.

Feyre ate until she was full, only leaving behind a few bites of scrambled egg that she didn't think she could finish without losing her breakfast altogether. "Thank you, Lucien. I don't feel like leaving my room today."

He nodded in agreement. "I figured as much. I’ll try to ward away Ianthe, but she’ll probably try to bother you anyways. Also I… spoke with Tamlin about training your magic,” Lucien began hesitantly.

“And?” Feyre asked, fearing she knew the answer already.

Lucien sighed. “He feels that training you at the moment would do more harm than good, but agreed to revisit the idea if you have an expressions of magic. I’m sorry, Feyre,” he added with another sigh, taking one of her hands in his.

A tear slipped down Feyre’s cheek without her realizing it was there in the first place, and she let Lucien wipe it away. “I suppose I should try to light another dress on fire then, hmm?” Feyre asked rhetorically, still garnering a smile from Lucien.

“Try it on a particularly ugly one, Fey. Mother known Ianthe has given you plenty of those.”

Feyre shook her head and sighed. “Even you think they’re ugly? Is Ianthe really giving me bad clothes?”

Lucien squeezed her hand gently and said, “Not necessarily, the clothes are in fashion, they just don’t suit you well. And Ianthe does seem to love frills quite a lot…” Lucien trailed off.

“I should mutiny and burn the whole wardrobe.”

Lucien chuckled. “Now that would be an expression of magic that neither Tamlin nor Ianthe could ignore. I say go for it, Feyre.”

“Ah, yes, and your advice is always sound,” Feyre joked, taking her hand out of his and pushing him on the shoulder. “I still remember the Suriel, Luce.”

Lucien let out an exasperated sigh. “The Suriel, Fey? When will you let that go?”

“I have, I just like bringing it up,” Feyre laughed, giggling when Lucien pushed her shoulder lightly. “And you’ve apologized on multiple occasions for it, so I’ve forgiven you.”

“That’s good to know, Feyre.” Lucien smiled at her, then stood from his chair, placing it back in front of the vanity. “I should be going now, I have a few meetings to go to with Tamlin. I’ll make sure someone brings you up lunch and dinner, if you choose to not leave you room. No matter what, I’ll see you in the morning, Feyre,” Lucien said, staring her down until she nodded her head.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then, Lucien,” Feyre said with a small smile. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“It’s no problem, Feyre.” He picked up the tray of dishes, and made his way to the door. “Have a good day, Fey.”

“You too, Luce,” Feyre replied, and he shut the door on his way out.

Feyre let out a heavy breath.

Time to practice her magic.

Feyre reached in her chest for her magic, the cold ball that she'd gotten to loosen up while in the Night Court.

She tried gently to move her magic within her, see if she could do something to change Tamlin's mind.

It was frozen solid again, unwilling to budge even the smallest amount.

Worry built in Feyre's chest as she tried and tried to get movement in her magical core, with no success. Tears pricked her eyes.

All of her progress, gone.

And she wasn't even sure if it was normal for this to happen, for a fae's magic to solidify itself again after not being used for over a week.

The tears in Feyre's eyes rolled down her cheeks after an hour of trying, with nothing to show for her time. She fell back against her bed, feeling defeated.

This is why I need help training, Feyre thought to herself. Someone to help guide me or tell me to take a break...

Feyre let out a heavy sigh. If she couldn't get her magic to cooperate with her, she could practice her shielding. And shielding had come more easily to her, it's possible that practicing it could help loosen her core again.

She hoped.

Feyre sank into her own mind, the feeling of her mental shields soothing her, especially once she felt as though she was floating on an endless expanse of ocean.

Maybe I can get Tam to take me to the coast, soon, Feyre thought softly, noticing how her shields had a pink tinge when she thought of Tamlin. I should ask Rhys if emotions can change the look of shields...

Feyre's breathing evened out as she sank further into her shields, wrapped in them like a cozy blanket. Her fingers played in the waters of her mind, loving the way she created small ripples as she did. She was on her back, floating in the water with her hair fanning around her head. A warm light was pouring over her, buttery soft when she opened her eyes mentally.

Her mind moved quickly, adding in mountains that completely encircled the body of water she was in, looking suspiciously like those she had gazed at longingly in her week away. Trees stood proudly on the mountainsides, another place that she could hide herself if she needed. There was a log cabin on the shore, with a hammock hung from two trees sitting nearby.

Feyre swam to the shore, sinking her feet into the sand that bordered the water once she was out. She approached the cabin, noticing that it looked similar to the hut she lived in back in the human lands. Her hands ran over the smooth doorknob, twisting and pushing the door in to enter the cabin.

Inside, it was a nicer version of the home she'd shared with her family. The small kitchen, fireplace, even the door leading into the one bedroom were placed the same. She made her way into the bedroom, tears in her eyes at the sight of the large bed, exactly as it was when she'd left that fateful night.

Feyre walked over to the bed, and sank down onto it. She could almost picture Nesta and Elain getting ready for bed, brushing out their hair and changing into their nightgowns. Feyre laid down, tears flowing freely now.

She had a complicated relationship with her sisters, of course, but she missed them. She missed the feeling of snuggling in for body heat, even when it wasn't too terribly cold.

She missed her sisters.

Feyre buried her face in one of the pillows, wishing she was surrounded by their familiar scents.

She must have drifted off, because the next thing she was aware of was Ianthe bursting into her room, Tonilia behind her carrying a tray with a bowl and cup on it.

"Feyre, really? A nap in the afternoon? This is what's so important that you can't bother to plan your own wedding?" Ianthe scoffed.

Feyre was silent, busy wiping the sleep from her eyes after sitting up as Tonilia set the tray down over her legs, effectively keeping her in her place.

"Not even going to answer me?" Ianthe asked as she waved Tonilia out of the room, who gave Feyre a gentle smile before shutting the door behind her.

Feyre just shook her head, not having any energy to deal with her right now.

"Fine, if you won't talk, you'll just have to stuff your face faster, Feyre. I have a lot to do, and if you're unwilling to help then I have to pick up your slack." Ianthe gestured to the tray over Feyre's legs. "Eat up."

Feyre's stomach dropped as she processed Ianthe's words, her clear disdain for Feyre. She took in the food she'd been brought, a bowl of soup and a cup of tea. The soup looked to be mainly vegetable, with a few small bits of chicken in it. Feyre's eyes flicked up to Ianthe's, then back to the food.

Ianthe already had a pinched expression on her face, as though dealing with Feyre was the last thing she wanted to be doing at the moment. She let out an exasperated sigh when Feyre didn't immediately pick up the spoon, her ire prompting Feyre to do so.

Feyre ate as quickly as she could manage, stomach churning as Ianthe watched her. She managed to eat most of the soup before Ianthe sighed again, so Feyre moved on to the tea quickly.

She wrinkled her nose before taking her first sip- Ianthe always picked the worst blends, and the tea was always too hot for Feyre's throat. Nevertheless, Feyre drank the cup as quickly as she could, setting it back on the tray once she was done.

"See, Feyre? It's not that hard to do things right when you do what I ask. And you even left a bit of the soup, that's perfect. Maybe you'll fit into your wedding dress," the alpha said condescendingly as she picked up the tray. She left the room without another word, thank the Mother. Feyre didn't think she could deal with her cruel words for another second, not without bursting into tears.

Feyre breathed deeply for a few moments, doing her best to calm her nerves before diving back into her mental shields once more. The waters hiding the core of her mind were gentle, lapping at the edges of her shields before the mountains she had previously envisioned reappeared, the cabin along with it.

Her pulse slowed as she allowed her mind to fill in more and more detail, using her painter’s eye to make it look as natural as she could. Leaves on trees, thick blades of grass, a beautiful patch of wildflowers, similar to those that grew in the woods she hunted in. By the time she’d finished focusing on those, Feyre was tired enough to let sleep take a hold of her.

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“Feyre?” Alis’s voice asked through her door, just loud enough to rouse Feyre from her nap. “Can I come in?”

Feyre nodded her head sleepily, before realizing that Alis couldn’t see her. “Yes, Alis.”

Her door opened and the beta entered, closing the door behind her. “Did you feel up to attending dinner in the dining room?"

Feyre shook her head, biting her lip apprehensively. She was expecting her wishes to be denied, but Alis surprised her with a smile. “Very well, I’ll bring a plate up to you. Would you like to wash up beforehand?”

Her body did feel rather dirty at the moment, as she’d stayed in bed all morning and declined to take her usual morning bath. “That would be nice, Alis. But… Would you eat with me? I don’t feel like eating alone…”

Alis gave her another smile, and nodded her head in agreement. “I would be delighted to dine with you, Feyre. I’ll go get some food for us, and you can go wash up.”

“Thank you, Alis,” Feyre said as the fae was opening her door.

“It’s no problem at all, Feyre. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Alis replied, shutting the door behind her.

Feyre let out a long sigh before standing from her bed, stretching out her limbs to relieve some of the ache in her muscles from laying in bed all day. She stripped off her nightgown, throwing it into her laundry bin and made her way into the bathroom.

She turned on the tap, letting water fill the enchanted tub that began to heat it immediately. Feyre waited until the tub was full and steaming to slip into the water, sighing as heat poured into her body. She hadn’t realized how cold she had been.

After washing her body and halfway through washing her hair, she heard her bedroom door open, and Alis knocked softly on the wall outside of her bathroom. “Would you like any help washing up, Feyre?”

Normally, Feyre would say no, but she was so exhausted at the moment. “Yes, please,” she admitted softly, and the beta entered her bathroom, eyes respectfully keeping to her face. Alis settled behind her on her knees, taking over for Feyre’s hands and massaging the soap into her hair, nails scratching gently along her scalp in a soothing manner.

A small contented huff left Feyre’s lips, and Alis chuckled softly. Feyre didn’t feel self conscious about it, though, she and Alis had known each other long enough that Feyre felt nothing could embarrass her in front of the other fae. Alis had been the one to help Feyre feel comfortable in her new role as an omega, after all, comforting her when Feyre was confused about building her first nest. A few contented sighs were perfectly normal.

Alis guided her head to rinse her hair, so careful to not get water in Feyre’s eyes. Once it was clean, Alis set to massaging conditioner into her hair for a few minutes, massaging her scalp before rinsing her hair once more. She wrung the water from her hair before grabbing a nearby towel, wrapping her hair in it. “Alright, dear, go ahead and dry yourself off and I’ll bring a nightgown in for you.”

Feyre did as she said, dragging her body out of the warm water reluctantly and toweling herself off. She slipped on the light blue, long sleeved nightgown Alis brought her, and followed beta into her room, where a tray of food was waiting on her bed.

She settled into her bed as Alis dragged the vanity chair over and sat at the end of the bed.

Dinner tonight was roasted chicken and potatoes, as well as sautéed green beans, both of them having a nicely sized portion.

Eating with Alis was quiet and comfortable, neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence tonight. Feyre just barely managed to finish her food, feeling so full and sleepy that she yawned after setting down her fork. “Dinner was delicious, thank you Alis.”

“Of course, Feyre. I thought you could use something nutritious and warm.”

Feyre gave her a small smile. “You were right.”

Alis’s expression mirrored her own as she stood from the chair, finished with her own meal as well. “I know I was,” Alis said cheekily, then gestured for Feyre to get up. “Come on, let me braid your hair.”

Feyre stood from the bed, unwrapping her hair from its towel as she followed Alis, dragging the chair, to the vanity. She sat in the chair, handing the towel to Alis, who dried Feyre’s hair as much as she could before brushing it out, smoothing out any tangles with a gentle hand. Feyre closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the sensation and lull her into a sleepy state. By the time her hair was braided and tied off, Feyre thought she could fall asleep at the vanity.

Alis led her out of the chair and into her bed, even going as far as to tuck the omega in, pillows fluffed and covers pulled up to her chin.

“Have a good night, and I’ll see you sometime tomorrow, Feyre,” Alis said softly, and picked up the tray of food from where she’d moved it to the floor before leaving the room, the door snicking shut behind her.

And Feyre was alone with her thoughts once more.

Luckily, her full stomach and exhausted mind pulled her into her dreams swiftly, leaving hurtful words and actions for the waking hours.

Her dreams were filled with flying, soaring above mountain ranges and lakes like a bird, feeling the wind in her hair and whipping across her skin.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The next two days of her self imposed isolation were nearly identical to the first. Lucien roused her in the morning, asking if she would like to have breakfast outside with him, and when she declined her went to grab them both plates of food. After her left, she would practice with her magic, trying and trying to regain the progress she’d made in the Night Court, and when that failed turning to fortifying her mental shields.

Ianthe would interrupt her at midday, bringing Tonilia who carried a bowl of soup and mug of tea on a tray for Feyre. Ianthe glared at her until she finished both, and storming out with Tonilia on her heels, who always gave Feyre an apologetic smile before shutting her bedroom door.

Feyre spent her afternoons recovering from the cruel alpha’s presence, comforting herself by adding even more details to her mental shields, focusing on the waters where she hid her actual presence.

By the end of the third day in her room, she had an underwater fortress protecting herself, so many doors locked by keys that only existed when she wanted them to.

She wasn’t certain that her shields would be impenetrable, but she felt confident in their strength now.

Alis would come to her room in the evenings, helping Feyre bathe if she was too tired and bringing food for the both of them to eat.

It was only on the fourth day that Feyre woke before Lucien knocked on her door, and she had enough energy and willpower to bathe and dress herself that morning. She had just put on a pair of slippers when a knock came at her door, and Feyre rushed to answer it, ready to make Lucien proud by being awake and dressed.

She was met with green eyes and blond hair.

Tamlin.

Feyre instinctively shrank back into herself, expecting more insults to be thrown her way.

Tamlin noticed, and the regret that was shining in his eyes increased tenfold. “Feyre, I… I’m so sorry, omega.” He stepped forward, pushing into her room as Feyre retreated slowly, letting him get closer to her. “I should never have called you any of those things, I should never have blamed you for this situation. You’re not to blame for coming home like that, it’s that damn bastard’s fault,” Tamlin growled, pulling Feyre into his chest. Her arms stayed limp at her sides as he hugged her, still flooded with anxiety even as she scented her alpha. “I’m sorry, Feyre. Will you forgive me?” Tamlin asked after pulling away from her slightly to look her in the eyes.

The regret and sorrow in his eyes had her caving instantly, and her arms came up to clutch at him tightly. She buried her face in his chest and nodded, and Tamlin sighed a heavy breath of relief.

“Will you come with me? I have a surprise for you,” Tamlin asked, already pulling Feyre out into the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

“I said it’s a surprise, omega,” Tamlin teased, grinning widely at Feyre. It was the first time she’d seen him look happy - that I can remember – since returning home, and her chest melted at the sight.

He guided her down the stairs and out the front doors, straight to the stables where Tamlin’s preferred horse was waiting, already saddled and ready for them, a basket hanging off of either side.

“Up you go, omega,” Tamlin said as he helped her climb onto to the horse, pulling her skirts up high to be able to ride normally. His eyes tracked her movements, and made sure she was secure before climbing up behind her, his arms wrapping around her to grab the reins.

The horse started walking at Tamlin’s signal, leading them to wherever Tamlin had planned. Once they were out of sight of the manor and in the trees of the forest, Tamlin’s lips kissed a slow path down her neck, sending shivers up her spine.

Feyre pressed back into him, leaning into his hold as he repeated the action on the other side. One of his hands let go of the reins, and slinked up Feyre’s thighs, stomach, to rest on her right breast, squeezing softly. Feyre gasped, completely melting into the alpha behind her and hands gripping his thick thighs that were caging her in.

Tamlin chuckled lowly in her ear, pressing a soft kiss just underneath it before the horse came to a stop.

Feyre hadn’t realized she had shut her eyes, but they flew open when they halted, her eyes taking in the clearing they were at.

The pool of starlight.

It was even more beautiful than Feyre remembered, most likely due to her new eyesight. The silvery waters rippled appealingly, and Feyre wondered if sipping starlight would make her feel new again.

Probably not, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

Tamlin climbed off of the horse, extending his hands to Feyre to help her down. Once she was safely on the ground, he turned his attention to the two baskets tied to the horse, taking them and the saddle off and allowing the horse to graze as it pleased. One of the baskets held a large blanket which Tamlin laid out on the grass near the pool, patting for Feyre to sit down next to him.

She did, snuggling into his side as he went through the second basket, pulling out a selection of fruits, crackers, cheeses, and thinly sliced meats, as well as a couple of bottles of sparkling fairy wine.

“You planned,” Feyre hummed as she took in the spread of food, watching as Tamlin pulled out a small knife and began to slice up an apple.

“I did, sweet omega,” Tamlin said, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“That works for me,” Feyre replied before he placed a slice of apple in her mouth. It was juicy and slightly tart, absolutely lovely. Feyre hooked her arms around his left one, pushing her body further against him. “I missed you, alpha,” she whispered.

“I missed you too, omega. No more fighting, hmm?” Tamlin asked, feeding her another slice after she nodded in agreement. “Good.”

Feyre took a chance, letting go of Tam’s arm and instead pulling it over her shoulder, snuggling into his chest and breathing in his scent. He simply kept feeding her and himself, every now and then scenting the top of her head. Feyre’s omega relaxed with every bite, every minute spent in peace with him.

Once they’d finished eating, the two of them laid back on the blanket, taking in the puffy clouds floating by slowly, the gentle rustle of leaves from the slight breeze. Feyre had nearly drifted off when Tamlin’s hand began to wander below where it had been caressing her shoulder, going lower and lower with each pass, before finally his hand squeezed her ass softly, drawing a quiet moan from Feyre. She tilted her head to smile up at him, eyes blurry with sleep. She puckered her lips slightly, the closest she could get to demanding a kiss at the moment. He obliged her, pressing his lips hungrily to hers, and his change in scent made her wake up quickly.

He claimed her lips, taking Feyre’s breath with him when his other hand came to caress her neck, brushing over her scent gland teasingly.

“Alpha,” she moaned needily, pressing her front closer to him, needing to feel him everywhere. He pushed her back so she was flat on the ground, and covered her body with his, slotting himself between her hips after pressing the skirts of her dress out of the way, and Feyre whined at the feel of him against her, even fully clothed.

“You smell delicious, omega,” Tamlin remarked as he slid his lips over Feyre’s neck, sucking dark marks along the expanse of it. “So needy, so perfect, and all mine,” he growled, pressing his hips down harder.

“Yes, alpha, all yours,” Feyre mewled, her hands scratching over Tamlin’s shirt, wishing they were already unclothed so she could feel their skin together. Tamlin seemed to have the same thought, ridding himself of his shirt quickly and working to free Feyre from her dress, tossing them to the other side of the blanket before returning to Feyre’s neck, mouth moving lower and lower, finally catching on the edge of her bra.

His eyes met hers, and her breath caught in her throat when he undid the clasp and removed it from her chest, immediately giving attention to her breasts. Her back arched when his teeth grazed over her nipple, his answering chuckle only making her pull herself closer to him. He moved to the other one, sucking a light mark on the underside of it before kissing lower, traveling down the expanse of Feyre’s stomach, straight to the hem of her panties.

She was leaking slick at this point, she knew, and Tamlin could obviously smell just how effected by him she is, judging by his smirk and playful eyes. More slick gushed out of her once Tam’s teeth latched onto the hem, pulling her panties away from her center slowly, a string of slick connecting them together.

Feyre would have been embarrassed, but Tamlin’s eyes were hungrily devouring her core so thoroughly there was no room for doubt about if he was pleased or not.

He lost his patience after a moment, using a claw to shred through the fabric so he could set in on his second meal- Feyre.

Moans spilled from Feyre’s lips as Tamlin lapped at her core, licking up every bit of slick he could find before sucking at her clit. Her hips were already shaking, only driving Tam to work his tongue faster, and one thick finger entering her was enough for her to tip over the edge, pleasure blinding her as her hands clutched at his hair, holding him to her center as she rode out her high.

As soon as her hands slackened their hold, he pulled away, shucking off his pants as quickly as he could manage before returning to his omega, slotting himself between her legs and pushing into her in one stroke, all the breath leaving her lungs as he filled her.

When he pulled out slightly Feyre whined, walls clenching down on him and causing him to groan. “So tight, omega,” he moaned, punctuated by thrusting back in, and Feyre’s answering moan was more than enough for him to set a fast pace. His lips hovered over her scent gland, grazing slightly every now and then, sending jolts of pleasure through Feyre.

“Alpha, please,” she begged, not knowing if it was more for his knot or his mark, but that either would please her. He bit lightly on her gland, just tipping her over the edge again, and he followed soon after, pushing his knot into her cunt and locking them together as he came deep inside of her.

She was floating, or that’s what it felt like, being held in Tamlin’s arms and locked to him, his hands smoothing over her hair gently as they both came down.

Half an hour later his knot had deflated enough to separate themselves, Feyre whining at the sensation of being empty.

“Do you want to swim, Fey?” Tamlin asked softly into her ear, a hand still playing with her hair as he held her against his chest. She tilted her head up to look at him, and saw excitement in his eyes.

If he wanted to swim, she would swim.

“As long as we can cuddle afterwards while we dry off.”

Tamlin smiled down at her, kissing her forehead. “Of course, Fey. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He stood up, then helped her to her feet. The two of the slipped into the starlight waters, smiling giddily at each other as they both took a sip from the other’s hand, happiness bursting across their senses as they did.

Feyre giggled and pressed herself into Tamlin, hugging him tightly and nuzzling into his chest as he pulled them into deeper waters. He swept Feyre off her feet once she could barely touch, clutching her to his chest as he spun around, laughing with her when she splashed his face with starlight.

She leaned up, licking a trail of it from his neck before kissing him hungrily, and both of them were breathing heavily once she pulled away.

He had her again, her upper half pressed on the grass as he pounded into her from behind, both of them still standing in the pool. He barely managed to keep himself from knotting her, instead pulling her back onto the blanket so they could dry off, basking in their pleasure as they laid on their sides, facing one another.

Feyre could feel their uninterrupted time coming to a close, but… she needed to talk to him.

“Tam, I know it’s… Important for the wedding to be traditionally Spring, but… would you be able to speak to Ianthe? She’s said some…” Feyre paused, and looked away from his beautiful green eyes. She didn’t want to talk about this, but she needed to. “Unkind things about my body, and I just don’t think I can handle planning the wedding if she continues to be so controlling and harsh on me.” She bit her lip nervously.

Tamlin’s hand came to caress her face, tilting her head so she would look at him. “Of course, Feyre. You are my future Lady of Spring, I want you to feel comfortable. I’ll talk to her, make sure she knows that you input matters. And I’ve already told her to ensure that there is no red at the wedding. I am sorry about that, Fey,” Tamlin said sincerely, giving her a soft smile, one that she returned at his promises.

“Thank you, Tam,” Feyre said, snuggling into him and peppering kisses on his chest and neck. Something akin to a purr rumbled through his chest, and his scent changed once more, deepening with lust.

Feyre was sure they would make love once more, but a horn cut through the air just as she started to kiss him, and he pulled away.

“I’m sorry, love, that’s our cue to return home,” he said regretfully, pulling their clothes over to his side. He dressed Feyre, hands lingering on her curves as long as he would allow, before dressing himself and packing up their things and re-saddling their horse.

“Up you go, omega,” he said as he helped her atop the horse once more, following after her and beginning their ride home.

“What was the horn for?” Feyre asked, leaning back into Tamlin’s strong hold.

“I sent a scouting party to the West after a few reports came back about the welfare of the villages, and they’ve just returned. I was hoping it would be later in the day, though,” he whispered into her ear, a hand gripping her thigh as he did. “I’m planning to take more time with you, though, omega. Don’t you worry.”

A pleasant shiver went down Feyre’s spine at the promise, wishing that it could be now. No time with her alpha was ever enough, it seemed.

They were home soon enough, dismounting at the stables where a number of guards were gathered, obviously the ones from the scouting party if the state of their weapons- bloody and used- were anything to go by.

Feyre was nearly grateful to see Ianthe, her scent an unwelcome but needed change from the metallic tang of blood coming from the guards. “Ah, Feyre, come with me, we have some planning to do,” she said, attempting to tug Feyre back into the manor.

“Ianthe, a quick word?” Tamlin demanded, pulling her aside.

Feyre couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, but assumed it was what they’d talked about. Lucien’s voice made her turn her head, and with the way he was staring at her, she was sure he’d said something to her.

“What?”

“Did you have a good morning?” Lucien asked, a sparkle in his eye. He had obviously known Tamlin’s plan, and could see the joy radiating off of Feyre.

“Mhm, we had a lovely swim,” Feyre replied, and Lucien snorted at her.

“I’m sure, Fey. I’m also sure the local wildlife is traumatized now.”

It was Feyre’s turn to laugh, swatting him on the arm just as Tam and Ianthe returned to her.

“I’ll see you at dinner, omega,” Tamlin said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before following the guards who were now headed inside of the manor. “Let’s go, Lucien.”

The redhead smiled once more at Feyre before following after their High Lord, leaving Feyre alone with Ianthe.

“Well, Feyre, let’s get to planning. We have a lot to make up for, for these past few days. We’ll manage, though,” Ianthe said sweetly, but Feyre could tell it as fake.

Still, she let the alpha drag her back into that sitting room, taking her place on the couch and accepting that fake sweetness was better than thinly veiled insults. And, she wanted to have some input on the wedding.

And it would make Tamlin happy if she tried her best to get along with his dear friend. So she would do it, for him, even if Ianthe showing her fifteen different types of ribbons to tie the bouquets made her want to claw her eyes out.

After all, he had nearly marked her today, a sign that he wanted it as badly as her.

So she would plan their wedding, and hopefully make her dress something more her this time. Anything else, she didn’t care too much about.

As Ianthe pulled out yet another type of ribbon, Feyre merely nodded her head at Ianthe’s suggestions, picturing herself and Tamlin holding a child bearing both of their features, instead of how her bouquet would look with said ribbon.

Yes, for Tamlin, she could do this.

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @homeslices @holypizzaqueen

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre was dying.

She was sure of it. She had to be dying, with the overwhelming heat coming off of her and the immense pains in her abdomen.

Granted, Feyre’s thoughts had been very muddled lately, moments in time disappearing from her memory and nothing made sense.

Feyre had realized again that she was back in Spring, separated from her perfect nest she had made before. She wasn’t sure how many days had passed, how long she had been drifting in and out of sleep.

Ianthe visited her far too often, cramming food into Feyre’s mouth and commanding her to eat and plying her with tea that sent her back to sleep.

Tamlin had come to her four times.

Feyre knew that one for sure, she could vividly remember the instant relief she felt when the alpha had knotted her, each and every time.

She only wished it had happened more often.

Right now, Feyre had her hand between her thighs, desperately trying to find some sort of reprieve from the fire ravaging her flesh. She’d been in the same position, hips rocking when she could summon the energy. She wished she had her nightgown still, the one that smelled so perfect. But it had disappeared at some point when she was asleep.

Her bedroom door swung open, and Feyre managed to look towards it, hoping to scent her alpha-

But it was the rancid scent of Ianthe, wilting roses and dirt that got stuck in her nose for hours after she was left alone.

Feyre groaned, turning away from the alpha as quickly as she could manage.

“Feyre, we’ve talked about this. You need to eat, and you need to drink something,” Ianthe scolded. “Now, turn around omega.”

She fought the command as long as she could, but she was already so weak, so tired. Feyre rolled back to the alpha, grimacing as pain lanced through her.

Ianthe attempted to pry Feyre’s mouth open and place a piece of a sandwich inside, but Feyre wouldn’t budge.

The taste of her fingers were like ash, and Feyre nearly vomited, but she held her mouth closed, unwilling to eat the food she was offering. Every time she ate, it meant that Tamlin would not appear, and she needed his knot.

Feyre kept turning her head away from Ianthe’s chilled fingers, until finally the alpha huffed and stormed out of the room.

Finally. The scent of her would linger, but the intensity was already so much lesser…

Her right hand returned to between her thighs, slowly rubbing at the bundle of nerves there.

She wished she still had her nightgown, the one with her alpha’s scent… just the thought of it, so fresh and clean and intoxicating lessened the burning of her body for a moment, before kicking up to a level higher than before.

Feyre let out a wail, in so much pain that she could hardly breathe.

The door opened once more, and the scent of lilacs, cedar and earth filled Feyre’s senses. Or nearly what she needed, but it would do.

She took a few greedy lungfuls before turning her head to the door to watch Tamlin swing it shut.

“Alpha,” she groaned, and she wanted to present for him, if only she had the strength in her limbs to do so.

“Omega. Ianthe said you refuse to eat.” His voice was tense, verging on angry and Feyre cowered into herself, terrified that she made the alpha upset. “You need to eat, Feyre.”

“Pain,” Feyre whispered.

Tamlin gave her a pitying look before approaching her in her nest and sitting down next to her. “You hurt too much to eat, omega?” He asked, and Feyre nodded her head slightly. “Do you need alpha’s knot?”

Feyre moaned at that, the thought of being filled and locked to an alpha just what she needed. She let Tamlin pull the sheets from her body, prowling over her naked form. She was already leaking slick steadily, and he was able to push in in one slow thrust, stopping for a moment to let Feyre bask in the fullness.

Finally. Finally full again.

Feyre came quickly, her body overstimulated from the days on end need that flooded her. Her second came as Tamlin’s knot started to catch, so close to what she needs.

And then they were blissfully locked together, Tamlin’s seed coating her insides. I hope I have a baby, Feyre thought as Tamlin gently laid them on their sides, and arm wrapping around Feyre’s torso. Feyre sighed, the heat finally abating for the moment.

She had nearly nodded off to the calming sound of Tamlin’s breathing and steady heartbeat when his knot started to deflate, and he moved to pull away.

All tiredness left Feyre’s body, and she was flooded with instant panic as she quickly turned to wrap her arms around the alpha.

“Don’t leave, alpha, please don’t leave me,” Feyre cried pathetically, fat tears already pouring from her eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want please just don’t leave me, stay with me.”

Tamlin let out a heavy sigh. “Feyre, you know I have things to-”

“Alpha, please,” she wailed, grasping tighter to him when he tried to move.

Another sigh. “If you eat, omega, I will stay with you. But you need to eat and drink,” he commanded gently, and Feyre bobbed her head in agreement.

She still didn’t move.

“Omega, you need to sit back against the headboard to eat.” She let go of him with a pout on her face, but scooted back against the wall as he asked. Tamlin moved the tray that Ianthe had brought in onto the bed right in front of Feyre’s crossed legs. “Eat.”

Feyre sighed and picked up the sandwich, bland and ashy on her tongue. She choked it down as quickly as she could, then took the teacup that Tamlin was now offering her and drained that swiftly. Feyre placed the cup back on the tray, and turned her eyes on the alpha expectantly.

Tamlin moved the tray onto her nightstand and moved up the bed, taking Feyre in his arms. He pulled a blanket over them, a pale green and entirely too scratchy on Feyre’s sensitive skin, but it would have to do. Feyre snuggled into his hold, breathing in his scent and relaxing as she listened to his heartbeat.

Tamlin kept his word and stayed with Feyre throughout the night, knotting her a total of five times.

When she awoke for the final time, her mind felt clear once more. Her heat was nearly gone now, only a dull ache and mild fever after receiving the care and hormones she needed.

Tamlin stirred behind her, his arm tightening around her middle before pulling away entirely. Feyre rolled to follow his body, still not ready to be without her alpha.

“Tam? Where are you going?” Feyre asked softly as he stood up from the bed and began pulling his clothes on.

“I have a meeting to get to, Feyre. I’ll have Ianthe come and check on you soon,” Tamlin said stiffly, already fully clothed and walking towards the door. Anger bubbled in Feyre’s chest, overriding any sleepiness she had held onto.

“This isn’t fair!” Feyre yelled at his back. “You barely helped me during my heat, you haven’t marked me, you didn’t think to let me choose how to decorate my nest! It’s like you don’t even care about me anymore!”

Tamlin spun around faster than Feyre had seen him move in a long time, faster than at their wedding. “I’m the one who doesn’t care?!” He shouted back at her, his scent and face flooded with anger. “You couldn’t even make it down the aisle to me Feyre, how do you think that made me feel? And then you run off with him, when you were due for your heat any day!”

“You know that I had no control over-”

“You came home reeking of Rhysand! Lucien said you were clinging to him, like some desperate omega whore!” He spat at Feyre, and she shrank down into her bed.

“Get out,” Feyre whispered, pulling the blankets over her body tightly.

“Feyre, I didn’t-”

“Get out!” Feyre screamed, throwing a pillow at him as hard as she could. A moment later her door opened and slammed shut, rattling in its frame.

Tears streamed down Feyre’s face as she curled in on herself tightly, a pillow clutched to her chest.

Omega whore. That’s what she had been, hadn’t she? She had gone into Rhysand’s room, slept in his bed, ground against him…

Feyre sobbed. Everything Tamlin said was true. She was a horrible, horrible omega. She doesn’t deserve his mark, that’s probably why he hasn’t given it to her yet.

Hours passed, but Feyre stayed in the same position, tears constantly flowing down her face.

The thoughts wouldn’t leave.

Feyre stayed there until the sun had dipped below the horizon, after Ianthe had come to try and force her down to the dining room.

She finally moved to bathe. Her body felt disgusting after however many days she had spent in a heat soaked haze. The warmth of the water did little to warm her heart, which felt cold and brittle at the moment. Like she would shatter with one more vicious word from Tamlin.

Feyre stayed in there until her skin was pruney and the water had cooled, barely managing to wash herself with her limited energy. She dragged herself out, drying herself a bit before stumbling back into her bedroom.

Her nest was atrocious. She could see that now, after having built one exactly how she liked in the Night Court. It was filled with muted greens and browns, colors that she had felt safe wrapped in when she was a human- but now, now she needed vibrancy, a reminder that life is bright and joyful even when she doesn’t feel that way.

This nest, she hates.

Feyre ripped all of the blankets off, the pillows, the finally the sage green sheets, all of them tossed into the corner of her room. Feyre went through her closet and wardrobe, happening across a set of dusty pink sheets and a soft white cotton nightgown.

Better than nothing.

She pulled the nightgown over her head, then put the sheets on as fast as she could manage, feeling her exhaustion creeping back in after all of the movement. She slipped between them, relieved that these sheets seemed softer than the ones before. Feyre sighed, letting the tension leave her body with it as she curled in on herself again.

Omega whore.

Tears trailed down her face again as the insult echoed in her mind.

Finally, Feyre slipped into sleep.

Nightmares found her.

She was back under that mountain, trapped in a cell once more with her arm a broken, infected mess. This time, Tamlin came to see her.

“Does it hurt, omega?”

Feyre’s face scrunched at the title- “What?”

“Your arm,” he said, gesturing to it. Feyre looked down at it, saw the bone poking through skin. She nodded and looked back to him. “Good. Stupid omega whores like you deserve to be in pain.” Faster than she could see, his hand darted through the bars of her cell, fingers grabbing the bone protruding through her skin and pulled.

Feyre screamed, the pain worse than anything she had ever faced, but he didn’t let up. He grabbed her arms with his other hand and twisted, bones snapping further-

Feyre bolted out of bed, barely getting to the toilet in time to empty the contents of her stomach into it.

Knocks were coming from Feyre’s door, had been since she woke, and the door quickly opened after her retching started.

“Feyre, are you okay?” Lucien asked as he pulled her hair away from her face, a soothing hand on her back and she leaned on the bowl of the toilet for support.

“Nightmare,” Feyre whispered once she was certain her stomach was empty. She rinsed her mouth in the sink as thoroughly as she could. “What did you want?”

Lucien looked her up and down, taking in her pale, shaking frame. “I wanted to invite you out for breakfast in the gardens,” he suggested gently. “Tamlin…” Feyre shook harder at his name, and Lucien took her hands into his, the alpha’s scent of autumn leaves and crisp wind and calm soothing Feyre’s omega. “He told me what happened, your fight. I wanted to make sure you are okay, and offer you a way out of breakfast in the dining room if you wish.”

Feyre nodded her head. That sounded nice, better than dealing with Tamlin’s cruel words bouncing around in her head as he and Ianthe most likely ignored her. “I’d like that. Give me a moment to change?”

“Of course, Feyre. I’ll be waiting outside,” the redhead said with a soft smile. Feyre looked through her closet for something to wear-

All of the dresses were far too complex for her to put on herself. They required lacing in the back, both for the corset and the dress. She shuffled through everything, and happened across a few skirts and matching shirts- perfect. Feyre pulled out a pale pink set and quickly stripped herself of her nightgown and slid them on. The fabric was soft and flowy, and the skirt ended at her knees. The shirt had long sleeves that billowed slightly around her arm before coming in to a cuff at her wrists, and buttoned up the front.

How had she never worn this in the past year here?

Feyre knew the answer. She was rarely allowed to dress herself, let alone wake up on her own and not by the bustling of maids entering her room and prepping her for the day. She shook her head. She was allowed to today. Thank the Mother, Feyre didn’t think she could stand to be near Ianthe this early after such a horrible day and night yesterday.

Feyre made her way to the door, before she remembered to grab a pair of slippers to protect her feet. She opened the door, and found Lucien leaning against the wall opposite it. “Ready?” Feyre nodded. “Let’s go then, dear Feyre.” She took his extended arm gratefully, happy to have a calm, kind alpha near her to put her omega at ease. They walked slowly down the halls, as Feyre was still feeling exhausted from her heat and subsequent fight with her alpha.

Soon, they hit the front doors of the manor, the dining room only separated from them by the double glass doors. Feyre could hear the hum of Tamlin’s voice, Ianthe’s grating laughter. She tugged Lucien outside, not wanting to linger in case one of them decided to come to the door and drag her inside.

Lucien led her to a secluded spot in the garden, a table already set for their meal. Feyre was happy to note that there were no red roses in sight, something she was sure Lucien had planned for. Lucien pulled out a chair for Feyre, to which she shook her head but sat anyway.

“You know you don’t have to do that, I’m not lady, after all,” Feyre said as Lucien took his seat across from her.

“I know, Feyre, I just like to be nice and treat you as one,” he replied with a chuckle, and took the lids off of both of their plates. Feyre looked to hers, then at Lucien’s, and back to hers.

“Why do you get more bacon than me?”

Lucien snickered at her before he moved two more pieces of bacon to her plate from his, giving them an equal four each. “I didn’t plate the food, Feyre, otherwise I would have given you ten pieces, knowing how much you love bacon.”

Feyre’s plate was… sad, in her opinion. Two fried eggs, a slice of toast with a small amount of butter, the now four pieces of bacon, and a small bowl of fruit. She had forgotten how much smaller her portions were here, after being allowed to dish food out for herself as she liked. But at least Lucien was kind enough to sacrifice some of his bacon for her, that made a small smile on her face.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, though she could practically feel the questions rattling around in Lucien’s head. “Yes, Lucien?”

He sighed, setting his fork down. “Are you okay, Feyre?”

Feyre blinked at him. “I’m fine, Lucien. Pissed at Tamlin and exhausted, yes, but I’m fine. Why?”

Lucien’s eyes darted away from hers for a moment before meeting her blue orbs again. “You were very distressed when you came home, and I wanted to make sure that nothing…” he paused, searching for the right words. “If anything happened to you while you were away, Feyre, you can talk to me about it.”

Feyre stared at him. That’s what he was worried about? She couldn’t help but laugh at his suggestion. “Lucien, nothing bad happened to me in the Night Court, I promise you. Rhys was very proper once I went in to heat, he brought me here as soon as it started.” Lucien breathed a sigh of relief, and it was obvious to Feyre that this had been weighing heavily on him. “If he had had any ill intentions toward me, he could have kept me for the last day of the week that I owed him. But he didn’t, he brought me back here.” Feyre couldn’t help but defend Rhysand, he had been more attentive and caring to her in the five days she had been in his court than the entire last year in Spring. Lucien opened his mouth, but Feyre stopped him before he could disagree with her. “Lucien, I felt safe in his court. He and Mor were very kind to me, and never forced me to do anything while I was there.”

Lucien exhaled heavily, Feyre’s words not what he had been expecting. “I am glad that you were safe, Feyre. I do wish you weren’t bound to him, still. But it is good to hear that you are not in danger of being tortured.”

Feyre snorted. “The only torture I’ve been through is Rhys’s training, though even that was enjoyable.”

“Training?” Lucien asked warily.

“Yes…” Feyre paused, gauging his reaction. His mechanical eye was whirring, looking over Feyre’s form for any injuries. “He asked to help me train my mental shields and…”

“And?”

“And my magic,” Feyre added hesitantly.

“What magic, Feyre?” Lucien asked. “You haven’t shown any signs of magic over the past year, you know that.”

Feyre’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Yes I have, Lucien. Remember that god-awful dress Ianthe had tried to force me into? The one with red roses stitched all over the skirt of the dress?” Lucien nodded his head the memory coming back to him. “I set it on fire.”

“No, we decided that it had caught fire on the candle nearby, Feyre,” Lucien said as he shook his head.

“Lucien. It was me. The candle was several feet away from the dress. And the first signs of magic normally come in the beginning stages of life then fade, right?” He nodded his head again, confusion in his eyes. “And I was able to conjure wind in the Night Court after practicing, Lucien. Rhys thinks that I am close to my first magical expansion in my body, and that my magic is growing in at an accelerated pace after being Made.”

Lucien looked off to the side, deep in thought for a minute. “If that’s true, Feyre, then you do need training, and as much as possible. Uncontrolled magic is dangerous, especially once an expansion hits the body…” he trailed off.

“Will you talk to Tamlin about it? I would like to train when I’m home, as well. With Tamlin, if he’s willing,” Feyre asked cautiously. The last time she had asked to train in any way, Tamlin had exploded in anger, insisting that Feyre would never need to train, would never be in danger again.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Feyre… You remember how he was when you asked to learn to use a sword.”

“But that was a year ago, Lucien! Things have changed now, Rhys told me that Hybern is planning to go to war against Prythian. I should be training, you even said so!”

Lucien sighed. “Alright, Feyre. I’ll talk to him about it. But I can’t promise anything.”

Feyre breathed out, relieved that she had convinced him to try. “Thank you, Lucien.” He gave her a soft smile, one that she returned. “So… how many days was I in heat?”

“Nine days, Feyre.”

Nine? “What? But they’ve never lasted more than a week…”

“Tamlin was… well, he wasn’t in much of a state to help you, after you returned,” Lucien said cautiously, and his words lit a fire in Feyre’s chest. “You were crying out for your alpha, even when… even when Tamlin was holding you.” Heat moved to Feyre’s ears- had she really, truly been acting like an omega whore, just like Tamlin said? “It’s not your fault, Feyre, you were covered in Rhysand’s scent, and without Tamlin’s mark, well, most omegas normally latch on to the alpha they see when they first go into heat,” he added when he saw Feyre’s face fall.

“But- I don’t understand, why wouldn’t Tam help me?” Tears formed in her eyes, another layer of shame covering her.

“Tamlin was enraged that you had been near Rhysand in that state at all, he… he destroyed his study over the first few days.”

“But did he even stop to think about how much pain I was in? He stayed away long enough that my heat extended, Lucien!”

“He came to you in the end, Feyre. He’s trying, there’s just been a lot to adjust to in the past two weeks.” Feyre tried to let her anger go, she did. She knew that her leaving during their wedding ceremony would have consequences, just not to the degree that Tamlin would ignore her during her heat…

“I can’t… I can’t forgive him for that, Lucien. None of this was my choice, I should not be punished for a bargain that saved my life.”

“I know, Feyre, I know. Please, just give him a bit of time. The two of you can cool down and talk about this when you’re ready.” Feyre nodded her head in agreement after a moment. She would be giving him a wide berth for the next few days- she didn’t think she could see him and not hear the words he spat at her yesterday. Lucien breathed a sigh of relief, happy to have gotten Feyre to agree. “So, besides the training, how was the rest of your time?” Lucien asked curiously.

“Well… I started drawing again… the view from my bedroom was so magnificent, I couldn’t help but start again,” Feyre said softly, thinking about the many sunrises and sunsets she had seen over that beautiful mountain range.

“Feyre, that’s amazing!” Lucien congratulated, taking one of her hands in his. “So you were truly comfortable there?”

Feyre nodded her head. “Yes, it was a nice experience, actually. Which did surprise me. But Mor, she brought me some catalogs to shop from if I wanted, and…” Feyre paused, not sure if she was willing to share the information, but she was excited enough that she couldn’t stop. “They let me pick out whatever I wanted for my nest, and it turned out… I had never realized that I was supposed to feel completely relaxed in my nest, fully safe. But when I made one there… it was perfect,” Feyre gushed, remembering the soft feel of fabrics between her fingers, the beautiful colors surrounding her bed. When she finally looked at Lucien’s face again, his eyes had softened significantly.

“I’m happy for you, Feyre. It’s beautiful when an omega finally creates their perfect nest for themselves. Is that why you fought with Tamlin…?” He asked cautiously, and Feyre sighed again.

“Partially. I feel like my needs as an omega have been… pushed aside, deemed less important. And I feel like, if I don’t get them met soon, that…” she stopped mid sentence, unable to finish her thought.

“That you’ll collapse in on yourself?” Lucien offered, and Feyre nodded in agreement.

“Exactly. I’m still not fully used to having all of these new urges and desires, and I’ve been relying on all of you to tell me what I need. But in the Night Court… they actually offered it to me, put my omega at ease. Do you know where I’m coming from?” Feyre asked Lucien, tears building in her eyes.

“I do, Feyre, I do. I’ll talk to Tamlin about it, try to get through to him for you. You don’t deserve to be miserable in your new designation. And I’m sorry, that we didn’t help you before,” Lucien said softly, rubbing slow, soothing circles on the back of her hand.

“Thank you, Lucien. I just want to feel safe, cared for-”

“Hello, you two,” came a cheery voice from behind Feyre, but dread filled her stomach as she turned to look at the intruder. Ianthe, dressed in her priestess robes as usual. “I came to grab Feyre from you, we have a lot of preparations to get through for the new ceremony,” Ianthe said, extending a hand for Feyre to take.

Feyre stayed seated, unwilling to follow the alpha anywhere. After all, she was the reason the first ceremony was interrupted.

“Feyre, get up right now,” the alpha commanded harshly, and Feyre’s body followed the order instantly, much to her dismay. “Good girl, now come with me.” Feyre placed her hand on Ianthe’s arm and let the alpha lead her back into the manor, away from the kind aura of Lucien. “We need to get you measured for a new gown, I’m sure those heathens in the Night Court ripped it shreds and burned it,” Ianthe spat, dragging Feyre into sitting room where she had spent the majority of her time over the past year.

Ianthe clicked her tongue and a maid entered, measuring tape and full length mirror in hand.

“Do we really need to take new measurements?” Feyre asked. “I’m sure that I am the same size as I was a week ago, Ianthe.”

Ianthe sucked in breath. “I’m not so sure about that, Feyre. How much did food did you shovel into your face?” She asked, a venomous edge to her words. She guided Feyre in front of the mirror and stripped her of her clothes. “See that?” Ianthe asked as she pinched the skin covering Feyre’s stomach. “That’s fat, you silly little omega. You had to have eaten your weight in food there, Feyre.” She gave her a sickeningly sweet smile before pinching the skin on her thighs as well. “Next time, omega, show some restrain, hmm?”

Ianthe snapped her fingers, and maid came over to Feyre and began measuring every part of her body. Ianthe would huff after one, telling Feyre how much she had grown in each area. By the end of it, Feyre was holding back her tears, and could barely look at her reflection in the mirror.

She had thought her body was finally taking shape how it should have over the past year- but she was wrong. Feyre could hardly stand to see the fat hanging off of her, every movement causing it to jiggle slightly.

When Ianthe finally handed Feyre her clothes back, she put them on as quickly as she could, wishing for once that she was hidden beneath one of the ridiculously poofy dresses Ianthe liked to clothe her in.

Ianthe led her to the couches, where a tray of tea was waiting for them, kept warm in the enchanted teacups that Ianthe favored. She encouraged her to drink, so Feyre did, if only to keep the peace. Yea with Ianthe normally ended with Feyre being dreadfully tired, normally retiring to her room for a few hours of napping until dinner.

Ianthe waited for Feyre to finish her entire teacup, and then poured her another from the pot before speaking.

“Now that the… disappointment is over, Feyre, we can begin to work on the theming for the wedding. Again,” Ianthe added, anger lacing her tone. “The ceremony will be in four months. I believe that a lovely, tradition Spring Court wedding is still the way to go, what about you, Feyre?”

Feyre knew it was a trap, knew that anything beyond what Ianthe suggested would simply not do. But she couldn’t help it.

“Could we theme it to the season we’re in? We would be in Winter, by the time four months pass.” A winter wedding would be lovely, Feyre thought. She could almost see it, trees covered in glistening white snow, snow falling over a beautiful wooden archway as she walked down the aisle to Tamlin, using the season that almost killed her to bring to life the beautiful promise of forever that they would make to each other.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Feyre. Tamlin is the High Lord of Spring, he cannot have a Winter wedding.” Ianthe shook her head at Feyre, eyes narrowing heatedly at her. “Spring it is. Any requests for flowers? Roses, of course, will be included, it would be a waste to not include the former Lady’s lovely rose gardens after all.”

“Anything but red-”

“Feyre. It is foolish to ban a color such as red from a Spring wedding that includes roses!” Ianthe hissed at her, her scenting flooding with anger.

But Feyre was angrier. “I do not care, Ianthe, I will not have another panic attack at my own wedding!” Feyre screeched at her, nearly ready to rip her claws into Ianthe’s stupidly pretty face. “This is my wedding as well as Tamlin’s, you would be best to remember that.” Feyre had a growl building in her throat, until she locked eyes with the now fuming alpha.

“And you, Feyre, would be best to remember that you are lucky that Tamlin still wishes to marry you, after the stunt you pulled two weeks ago. And running away with another alpha, at that! Omega whore is right,” Ianthe spat at Feyre before standing from her chair and sweeping out of the room dramatically.

As soon as Feyre could no longer hear her footsteps, she made her way to her room as quickly as she could, choking back tears the entire way.

She reached her door, opening quickly and shutting it softly behind her before sliding down it, tears flowing from her eyes.

Too much, all of this is too much.

Feyre crawled to the bed, hoisting herself onto the mattress after a few tries. She curled up underneath the sheet, holding her legs to her chest as she slowly cried herself to sleep, sunshine still pouring through the windows of her bedroom.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The sun was shining brightly when a noise pulled Feyre from her dreams.

“Feyre?” It was Mor. “Feyre, wake up, we brought breakfast.” There were footsteps and the sound of someone rustling through her wardrobe, then something soft hit Feyre in the face.

Feyre bolted upright, eyes wide as she stared at the Alpha- her citrus and cinnamon scent was overwhelming and delicious, so much so that Feyre was tempted to drag her straight into her nest.

“We?”

“Yes,” Mor smiled. “Rhys is waiting outside, he wanted me to check and ensure that you’re decent and comfortable with him coming in here. So, are you?”

Feyre put on the dressing gown that Mor had thrown on her, coincidentally it matched her nightgown and long socks, then loudly stated “Yes, you can come in Rhys.”

Rhysand entered the room with a smile, a tray overloaded with food in his arms. He set it down on the table, then began scooting it over to the edge of Feyre’s nest and moved the two chairs as well.

His scent flooded Feyre’s nose, the salt water and citrus scent was so refreshing, and Feyre nearly dragged him into her nest, the urge even stronger than when she had scented Mor. Feyre had already scooted towards the edge of the bed closest to the alpha without even realizing it, and stopped once it registered in her brain.

Feyre. Get a hold of yourself, she mentally scolded, and tried her best to breathe in the smell of the food rather than the two wonderfully scented alphas seated in front of her.

Mor took a seat and began dishing out food for herself while Rhysand plated everything for himself and Feyre. There were scrambled eggs with diced potatoes, onions, peppers and small slices of sausage, pieces of toast accompanied by pots of jam, and bowl filled with chunks melons and orange slices.

Rhysand stood at the outside edge of Feyre’s nest, plate in hand, but didn’t move to pass it to her, instead asking “Is it alright if I hand it to you, Feyre?”

Again with the level of politeness and care towards her nest that she had never been given back home. “Yes, that’s fine Rhys.” He handed her the plate, then a napkin and fork before sitting down. “Thank you, Rhys.”

“You’re welcome, Feyre darling,” He said with his soft smile, the one that Feyre though made his face most beautiful. Though she would never tell him that, it would inflate his ego far too much.

“We can skip training today, if you’d like.” The offer came are a few comfortable minutes of silence while they ate.

“Why would I skip training?” Feyre asked. She feels fine, though she would protest if she had to leave her nest at all.

“I just thought I would offer, is all. And practicing in here is no issue, either.”

Feyre bobbed her head, happy to have that confirmed again.

“So Feyre, was there anything you thought of during the night that was missing?” Mor asked, her eyes tracking Feyre’s movements, every lift of her fork to her mouth and its descent back to her plate. Feyre looked around at her nest, she hadn’t even thought to wonder if she was missing something, it had felt so instantly perfect.

“No, I think… I think it’s perfect the way it is,” she said softly, a hand gripping the fine silks beneath her. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to choose everything to build my nest,” Feyre admitted, turning her eyes back to the alphas, who were staring at her with shock in their eyes and mouth agape. “What?” Her voice held panic, worried that her nest had offended them, that it wasn’t perfect in their eyes.

“No, it’s nothing Feyre, that you’ve done. It’s just…” Mor started.

“Most omegas, especially the Lady of a court, are given and abundance of fabrics to choose from for their nests. Omegas are rare, and their nesting process is sacred,” Rhysand explained. “If an omega does not feel fully comfortable in her nest, it is unlikely their heat will be fully satisfied even after it ends, and it makes the probability of conceiving even lower than it already is. It’s just… it was odd, to hear that you have not been given this opportunity before.” His voice was gentle, full of his alpha tone to keep Feyre calm as she heard and processed the information.

“I… I didn’t know,” Feyre whispered, tears filling her eyes. She pushed her half eaten plate of food off of her lap and onto the bed, then grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and buried her face in it.

“Hey, Feyre, it’s alright,” Mor soothed. She whispered something in a harsh tone before she spoke to Feyre once more. “I’m sure it’s just because the Spring Court was decimated over the past fifty years, there might be a shortage of the fabrics right now, sweetie.”

Feyre was still leaking tears onto the pillow, her breathing uneven.

“Feyre, it’s okay. You have a perfect nest right here, right now. We can even send you home with all of the fabrics if you’d like, that way you can have your perfect nest at home,” Rhysand offered, his voice so soothing and alpha and the thought of having her nest like this all the time was perfect.

Feyre leapt out of her bed and into his lap, tears staining his shirt as she curled up in his arms and sobbed. She breathed in his scent, unconsciously tilting her nose towards the scent gland in his neck. One of his hands started running through her hair and down her back, the gesture so comforting that Feyre sobbed harder.

Why wasn’t Tamlin like this with her? Why couldn’t he comfort her and teach her what she needed to know about her new biological needs?

Rhysand gave her a few minutes to calm down, his scent and touch quieting the outrage of the omega in her chest. She sniffled a few times before finally turning her face away from his chest, peering up at the alpha holding her.

“Sweet omega.” Her heart skipped a beat at his low voice, and her hand tightened its grip on his shirt. “You need to finish your breakfast, darling. Then we can do some magic training f you still feel up to it.”

Feyre bit her lip. She was embarrassed, yes, that she had crawled into Rhysand’s lap and cried like a child, but she hadn’t felt so safe and taken care of as she did now in such a long time. She didn’t move, hand still clutching Rhysand’s black silk shirt, right above his heart. She couldn’t move, if she was being honest. Her omega instincts had her rooted her, kept in the warm embrace of the alpha who had shown so much care to her over the past four days.

A very, very quiet purr left Feyre’s chest.

That had her bolting out of his arms and back to her spot on the bed, eagerly finishing off the rest of her breakfast as Mor and Rhysand shared a look that she missed.

“Well, Feyre, if there is anything that you think of that you would like for your nest here, or even duplicates of everything for you to take back to Spring, just let me know,” Mor proposed as she stood from the table. “And would it be alright for me to pick out things that I think you would like, if I happen across them while doing my own shopping?” Mor asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

Feyre nodded her head- having someone pick out things that they think would fit Feyre’s taste would be nice. “I would love that, Mor. Just don’t go too overboard,” Feyre warned with humor in her voice.

“Oh, I won’t Feyre. They will be things that scream your name rather than just remind me of you. And it helps that I know what you like, since we went shopping together already.” Mor was over by her bedroom door now, hand on the doorknob.

Feyre gave her a warm smile. “That is true, you know what colors I like and the fabrics I can’t stand.”

“Yes I do, Feyre. I’ll see the both of you later for dinner.”

And then Feyre was alone with Rhysand.

She finished off the rest of her food, and Rhysand made the dishes disappear once she was.

“Do you feel up for training still, Feyre?”

“Yes, I should be able to manage,” Feyre confirmed, already building up the shields in her mind.

“Alright, we will only be doing magic training today, I would like to save shielding for our next week, though I expect you to still practice on your own, is that clear?” Feyre nodded. “Good. Next month we will begin working on having your shielding stamina raised, so that you can eventually have them active at all times. That means that I will be attempting to break into your mind, as gently as I can, at random points throughout the day to make sure you’re keeping them active.”

“Okay, so over the next month I should attempt to keep them active at all times?”

“Yes, that would be perfect, Feyre.” He flashed her a smile, and Feyre couldn’t help but give him one in return.

Something was definitely off with her, today. Though it was her first time nesting in a place other than Spring, and she had learned some… uncomfortable truths about the world that had not yet been shared with her by her actual family. Feyre would just chalk it up to the nesting.

“For today, we will continue with your magical training, and the stretching of your core. When you’re ready, Feyre.”

Feyre closed her eyes and concentrated on that cold mass of power in her chest. It was already more active than it was the day before, it seemed to Feyre that the training was waking it up gradually.

She stretched it as far as it would allow, through the joints of her shoulders this time. When it snapped back, she attempted to hold it, and managed to keep it slightly expanded with some effort.

Her breathing was hard when she opened her eyes, locking them with Rhysand’s. Her lips broke into a grin, even as she was struggling to keep the power in place. “I’ve got it expanded slightly!” She exclaimed, proud of her efforts.

“That’s wonderful, Feyre, try to let it go slowly, rather than snapping back to its original form. Adding that into your training regime will help you gain more control over your magic and make it more reliable in tough situations.”

Feyre did as he said, letting her power relax slowly back into its original shape and took a moment to catch her breath.

She was sweating already, her sleep clothes dampened with it, but she didn’t care.

Feyre was learning.

They spent the next three hours working on expanding Feyre’s core out to her fingertips and releasing it slowly, when Feyre hit a new milestone.

Her power was stretched so, so taut as it neared her fingertips. Feyre was hardly breathing as she concentrated so intensely on pushing it further, managing to coat her fingers in the viscous magic.

And then it happened.

A slight breeze swept through the room, rustling Feyre and Rhysand’s hair as it did so, and Feyre magic snapped back into her chest so quickly Feyre recoiled back into the bed, falling onto her back.

“Feyre, are you alright?!” Rhysand asked fretfully, standing at the edge of her nest and peering at her.

Feyre merely giggled and launched herself back up and into Rhysand’s arms. “Rhys! I did it! I used magic!” She exclaimed, hugging him tightly in her arms. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her for a brief moment, before pulling away to look at her beaming face.

“You did, Feyre. You have done so perfectly, so wonderfully and I am so proud of you,” Rhysand gushed, and Feyre could feel it in her bones how sincere he was being.

“Thank you, Rhys.” It was then that Feyre remembered how unclothed she was, wrapped only in a dressing gown over her socks and nightgown, and she stepped away from him and back onto the fabric of her nest.

“You’ve earned it, Feyre. Now, I think we should call it a day, if you’d like I can go get us some lunch while you wash up?” He offered.

“I’d like that, thank you Rhys.” Rhysand left the room, leaving Feyre behind to bathe.

She reluctantly left the area of her nest, stripping off her clothes and tossing them into the laundry bin in her bathroom. She submerged herself into the bathing pool and looked out at the mountains in front of her. It was snowing today, a layer of white covering even the valley below, and Feyre couldn’t help but gaze at it in awe.

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed snowfall over the past year. While it had signified death to her as a human, now it was just a beautiful feature of the weather, something that quieted the land around her. Everything seemed more peaceful with the snow falling.

Feyre sighed, longing to capture the landscape on a canvas. Instead, she washed her hair and body quickly, not wanting Rhysand to return while she was still naked in the bath. She got out and wrapped her hair in one towel and her body in another and went to her wardrobe. Feyre dressed in a pair of black leggings and a knit sweater again, this time the sweater in a dark purple that was nearly black. She had slipped on a pair of socks right as a knock came on her door, and Feyre padded over to it.

She opened the door, revealing Rhysand carrying a tray holding two grilled sandwiches and two small bowls of salad. “Come in,” Feyre said, opening the door for him.

He placed the tray on the table once more, and handed one of the plates and bowls to Feyre after she had settled down in her nest. The sandwich had chicken, tomato slices, cheese, and some type of green sauce, which initially threw Feyre off until she smelled the sandwich, the basil and garlic scent was divine.

They ate in silence, Feyre too tired to make conversation and Rhysand lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Feyre questioned after a few minutes of Rhysand’s face being slightly scrunched up.

His eyes met hers, intense violet crashing against stormy blue. “I am wondering why you have been kept in the dark on omega and alpha customs. Nothing against you, of course, I’m just… curious as to why.”

Feyre sighed. “I am… wondering that as well. It seems as though every day here I learn something new that I feel I should have known a year ago.”

“No matter the reason or timing, I am glad that you are able to learn now, Feyre. It is… a very important change in your life, and you deserve to have all of the information you can.”

“Thank you, Rhys.” Feyre gave him a soft smile.

“Well, now that we’re done eating, I’ve got to be off,” Rhysand said as he stood up, vanishing the dishes. “I have a few meetings to attend, but I should be back in time for dinner, Feyre. Are you still wanting to take your meals in here?”

“Yes,” Feyre confirmed. “I don’t think I could be comfortable out of my room, tonight…”

“That is no problem, Feyre. I will see you in a few hours.”

He walked to the door, opening it before Feyre voice made him pause.

“Thank you, Rhys. For everything.”

He looked back at her and flashed her a brilliant grin. “You’re welcome, Feyre darling.” He shut the door behind him, leaving Feyre alone in her bedroom.

Already, she was missing the comforting scent of an alpha filling her senses. Feyre grabbed the romance novel she has been reading from the nightstand and curled in her body pillow. She tugged the blankets up around her body, getting as comfortable as she could before she began to read.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre had nearly finished the book by the time Mor and Rhysand arrived at her bedroom door again, and it swung open to reveal the two gorgeous alphas on the other side, scents flooding Feyre’s vicinity along with whatever delicious food they had brought with them.

The food was placed on the table, a bowl of… something placed in Feyre’s hands by Rhysand after he got permission to hand it to her. He also give her a small bowl of crackers.

The food in the bowl was made of minced beef, beans, and onions and was very thick, thicker than a stew. Rhysand and Mor were already crushing crackers over their bowls, and Feyre followed suit.

When she took the first bite, she was blown away by the flavor and how comforting the dish was, the extra taste of the crackers only adding to it.

Rhysand and Mor were talking to each other, but Feyre could hardly pay attention to the words they were saying. Between their overwhelming scents and the delicious food, her thoughts were muddled and it was all she could do to keep quietly eating her dinner.

When Feyre finally came to the present again, Mor was already gone, and Rhysand was vanishing their dishes away, Feyre’s included as she had finished her food minutes ago without realizing.

“Are you doing alright, Feyre?” He asked sweetly, and Feyre looked up at him. She nodded without thinking, not having heard anything but her name. “Alright, if you’re sure. I’m going to head to bed, I suggest you do the same, Feyre. You worked hard today.”

Feyre’s cheeks heated at the praise and she bit her lip while staring at him, mind blank. He moved to the door, and Feyre tracked his path.

“Go to sleep, omega,” he commanded in his alpha tone as he shut the door behind him, taking his scent with him.

A whine built in Feyre’s throat, but she suppressed it before it could escape her. The command hung heavy in her mind, and she quickly went to the wardrobe to change into sleepwear. A nightgown similar to the pink one she had worn a few nights ago caught her eye, this time in a rich amethyst. Feyre plucked it off its hanger and slid it onto her body, loving the way the fabric slipped down her like water. The flowing skirt of the nightgown called to Feyre, and she did a few small spins to see the way it moved around her, fascinated by it.

But the command pressed into her bones, her omega calling her to her nest. She slunk over to it, crawling between the many blankets and swaths of fabric covering bed. Feyre pulled the violet body pillow into her body, pinning it between her legs and clutching it in her arms. Her hips rocked gently against the pillow before she finally settled, letting out a deep breath and allowing sleep to claim her.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The heat was unbearable, so much so that Feyre woke in the middle of the night, legs still clenched around the pillow and hips rocking against it, searching for friction. Without thinking, a hand slipped down to her clothed cunt, pressing against it in an attempt to ease the ache that was building.

A whine left her lips, desperate and wanting.

Her nest was missing something.

Feyre dragged herself out of her nest, into the hallway. A smell caught in her nose, musky and perfect and alpha.

Alpha. That’s what I need.

Feyre began following the scent, pausing her journey only when cramps overtook her ability to walk. She let out another whine, she needs her alpha now.

The scent grew thicker with each step she took, until she reached a door. Her alpha must be in there.

Feyre turned the doorknob, stumbling into the room and falling to her knees as the delicious scent of her alpha overtook her. She sucked in a few deep breaths before standing again.

Bed. Need to get to the bed.

Feyre clumsily made her way to the large bed covered in black sheets and an alpha between them, shaking like a newborn fawn as another cramp rips through her abdomen. She makes it, lifting the sheet and slipping underneath.

His scent is so strong here, and she pressed herself against his chest as close as she could be. The cramps slowly come to a stop as she breathes in greedy lungfuls of his citrus and salt scent straight from his scent gland, her nose brushing against it.

Her alpha stirs when she scrapes her teeth against his neck, taking in a sharp breath.

“Feyre?” Her name rumbled through his chest so perfectly that Feyre started to purr, only nuzzling further into his neck. “Omega, what are you doing in here?”

Feyre moans at her title coming from his lips, the sweetest it had ever sounded in her ears. “Alpha,” she whined into his skin.

Her alpha attempted to pull away from her, so Feyre latched onto him, a leg swinging over his own and arms wrapping as far as she could around his chest. He loosed a sigh, and Feyre stopped purring.

Have I upset alpha?

“No, omega, you’ve done nothing wrong. Just… you should not be in here…”

Tears pricked at her eyes, and a whine dragged itself out of her lungs, prompting her alpha’s arms to wrap around her and pull her in, which instantly quieted her and put a smile on her face. “Alpha,” Feyre sighed, relaxing into his strong arms holding her.

“Alright, omega, you can stay in here until morning. But after that I need to take you back home, alright?” Feyre whined again, stopping once her alpha’s hand stroked along her scalp and down her spine. “Shh, pretty omega. Be a good little omega and go to sleep, okay?” Her alpha commanded gently, and Feyre was helpless against his words, immediately sinking back into the honeyed dreamscape she had awoken from.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The sun had barely risen when Feyre woke again, the cramping in her abdomen and heat blazing through her to painful to sleep through. Her alpha was behind her, her back pressed tightly to his chest and his arms caging her in, making it impossible to move anything but her lower half.

She lowered her nose to his hands, breathing in deeply to scent him as best as she could in this position. Instantly, slick gushed out of her, wetting her nightgown even further than it had in the night.

Feyre wiggled her hips, searching for any kind of friction when she felt it- pressed against her rear was her alpha’s cock, hard and already slightly swollen at the base, a promising feeling to Feyre as her cunt clenched, wanting nothing more than to have it inside of her, filling her up with his seed and locking them together with his knot.

She pressed harder against him, angling her hips so that her pussy lips were aligned with his length, moaning loudly when she got the perfect amount of friction to lessen the heat flooding her veins.

Her alpha’s breathing quickened and arms tightened around her for a moment.

“Feyre?” His sleepy voice asked. “What are you-?” He paused, taking a deep breath in to scent her even as Feyre’s hips kept moving against his, she was nearly there-

“Fuck, Feyre, I need to get you home.” Her alpha disentangled himself from her, and she cried out at the lack of contact, heat instantly building inside of her again as she moved her hand down to the apex of her thighs.

Tears were streaming down her face as her pleasure sputtered out, even with her hand moving as quickly as she could manage. “Alpha please,” she cried.

Her alpha returned, pulling her into his arms and she sighed, burying her face in his neck.

“What happened?” Came a female alpha’s voice.

“She went into heat and snuck into my room, I thought she would be fine for a few hours so I could take her back at a reasonable hour, but-”

“But you were wrong, Rhys. There’s a reason her heat came on faster than normal, you know that, so why did you take the chance?!” The other alpha asked angrily. “What would you have done if you lost control, if you had claimed her right now?”

A growl ripped through her Alpha’s chest, and Feyre groaned against his throat. “I didn’t, Mor. Now are you coming with me or not?”

“Fine.”

Feyre kissed and licked at her alpha’s neck as they slipped through the fabric of the world, Feyre hardly noticing the sensation as her mind wrapped around the taste of her alpha. “Perfect,” she breathed against his skin.

“Fuck, what did you do to her?” Came a third alpha’s voice, uneven as he ran up to them.

“Nothing, Lucien. Feyre went in to heat in the middle of the night,” her alpha explained. He tried to loosen his grip on Feyre’s body, but she clung harder to him, lips latching onto his throat as she sucked on it, wanting to leave a mark-

Mark.

Feyre bared her throat to her Alpha, whining to get his attention while he argued with the new alpha.

“Fuck, give her to me.” Her alpha’s arms loosened, and someone’s hands pried hers apart.

“No!” Feyre yelled, attempting to lace her arms around his neck again, even as her body was being passed into the third alpha’s arms. “Alpha please,” Feyre wailed, tears falling freely as she lost her grip on him.

“Feyre, it’s going to be fine, Tam will be here in a moment,” the alpha who grabbed her said, attempting to soothe her, but it only made her more incoherent.

“Alpha,” she cried again, eyes opening to search for him- but he and the female alpha were gone. She sobbed harder, writhing in the alpha’s arms.

“What the fuck happened, Lucien?!” A booming voice yelled, and Feyre cowered into the male’s arms, hiding her face in his neck.

“I don’t know, they said she went into heat during the night, but that’s all I know.”

Feyre was passed to another set of arms, and she curled into them. But it wasn’t right- they didn’t feel solid enough, the scent was all wrong- earthy lilac and cedar, not the perfect soothing blend of salt and citrus that she needed. Feyre bawled harder, turning her face away from the alpha’s chest.

“Why is she crying so much?” The voice was too loud, too angry against Feyre’s ears and she pushed against the chest of the person holding her.

“I…I’m not sure, she’s been crying ever since she was handed over to me.”

“Mother above, she fucking reeks.” A female alpha, different than the one before. This one’s voice grated against her ears, sending more tears cascading down her face. “We need to question her, while the memories are fresh.”

“Are you serious, Ianthe? She is in the middle of her heat, she is in no state to-”

“While the memories are fresh.” The alpha carrying her took off quickly, and in a minute Feyre was being dumped into a hard wooden chair. “Feyre.” She turned her head into her hair, sobbing harder with the loss of contact as her heat built further, becoming even more unbearable than it had been in the wrong alpha’s arms.

“Omega.” The commanding tone had her peeking up, meeting green eyes with her watery blue. “Tell us the layout of where you were staying, and any information that you learned. Now,” he commanded.

Feyre merely cried more, fat arms rolling down her cheeks and onto her neck, wetting the amethyst of her nightgown further.

“She is obviously not going to be able to tell us anything useful in this state, Tamlin.”

“Shut up, Lucien,” he snarled. “If you tell me, as soon as you’re finished I’ll take you upstairs and give you my knot, alright omega?”

The promise of a knot had Feyre wracking her brain for answers, anything to get the relief that she needs, even if it isn’t from the right alpha.

“I… what?”

He repeated the question, slowly, as if she were a child.

She did her best to give him the layout, her mind hazy with arousal and pain as she struggled to summon anything of use.

“That’s really all you have to give us?” The female asked in a condescending tone. “You spent a week there and all you can give us is a vague layout? Fucking useless,” she scoffed, walking away and slamming her door behind her.

The green eyes alpha made to follow her before Feyre cried out a soft “Alpha.” He looked back at, then snarled.

“You smell horrid, omega. Take a bath, I might give you my knot then.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him so roughly that one of the hinges broke.

Feyre sobbed, collapsing into the table in front of her.

“Sweet omega.” The one alpha left in the room approached her slowly. “Can I pick you up?” Feyre cried harder but nodded, allowing the alpha to secure her in his arms and take her away from the room.

A few minutes later he set her down on something squishy, and she collapsed back into it.

“Omega, you should take a bath and change, I’ll send your alpha in in a little bit, okay?” The alpha suggested gently, wiping hair out of Feyre’s face. “I’ll make sure you have some time to make your nest, okay?” Feyre nodded her head, not quite sure she had understood him, but she got she got the main gist of it.

Bathe. Change. Nest. Alpha.

The alpha left the room, and Feyre was alone. She dragged her tired body off of her bed and into her bathing room, turning on the tap to fill the bath with cold water. She took off her nightgown, scenting it before she tossed it into the laundry bin.

Alpha. Feyre moaned. Her alpha’s scent was still all over it, and Feyre pressed the dress to her nose, quickly working her clit as slick spilled from her center. She came with a loud moan, the scent of her alpha ingrained in her mind.

Feyre hid the dress in one of the counter drawers, wanting to keep the scent of her alpha around as long as possible.

She slipped into the tub, her orgasm and the cold water soothing the heat bubbling within her down to a low simmer. Feyre lasted only a few minutes in the water before she was pulling herself out, the water heated too much for her to bear any longer.

She dragged herself into her bedroom and grabbed the thinnest nightgown she could find before dragging herself into her bed. Feyre tried arranging the nest to her liking, she truly did, but nothing compared to the perfect nest she had already made.

This one was… horrible. Absolutely horrible. None of the lovely pinks and blue and purples, but dull greens and cream colored linens.

Feyre burst into tears just as her bedroom door opened.

“Oh, now, now, omega. I brought you tea just like you like, Tamlin is busy with some things that are more important than you, I’m afraid,” the fable alpha said as she made her way into Feyre’s bedroom, sitting down in her nest and placing the tray of tea on it as well.

Something in Feyre protested, a growl building in her throat.

“None of that, you foolish omega. Drink your tea, Tamlin will be up to see you whenever he is able to manage.” The alpha shoved a teacup into Feyre’s hands. “Drink,” she commanded.

Feyre had no choice but to obey, drinking down the scalding liquid that burned her insides as it went down.

“I’ll check up on you in a few hours, but don’t even think of leaving your room. You won’t get far in this pitiful state anyway,” the alpha tacked on, a vicious grin on her face as she glared down at Feyre. She took the tray and breezed out of Feyre’s room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Bone deep exhaustion hit Feyre, and in a few moments she was deep in sleep.