#azris

Which was why they had decided one of them should always be with you, especially now, during the first few weeks since your double mating ceremony, when the frenzy still hadn’t entirely passed.

But war and threats and death gods couldn’t be postponed, not even for you, and neither of them could refuse when they had to leave you for a few days to try to track down Koschei. They hadn’t talked much unless it was to discuss theories or mention you, but Azriel knew that, just like him, Eris was struggling.

Being away from you was a weight he could barely carry, and the frenzy only made it worse. Searching for clues and information helped, but when he lay down at night with nothing to do but think of you, Azriel would just stare at the ceiling for hours. It was the same for Eris—his shadows confirmed it in a whisper.

They could have helped each other, he supposed. After all, in the throes of passion, despite their focus on you, they had shared touches, kisses, sometimes more. And Azriel had long since stopped trying to convince himself he hadn’t enjoyed it. But he’d be damned before admitting it out loud. He was willing to bet it was the same for Eris, if his reactions to Azriel’s touch were any indication.

So they had spent days craving the touch of their mate—both of them knowing they could find some relief in each other and yet too stubborn to ask for it.

All that pent-up need and tension came crashing to the surface the moment they finally returned home and silently opened the door to your shared bedroom.

You were lying in bed, arms wrapped around your pillow, the sheets crumpled around your feet. A gentle breeze drifting in through the open window rustled the curtains, and the moonlight gave you an ethereal look as it bathed your sleeping form.

Your naked, sleeping form.

The sight was enough to stir a familiar hunger deep in Azriel’s core. His hand flexed at his side as if itching to reach out and touch you, and his Illyrian leathers were suddenly far too tight around his groin.

“Someone’s needy,” Eris whispered beside him, a tantalizing smirk curving his lips as always.

Azriel glanced at him—at the obvious bulge in his pants. “You’re one to talk.”

Eris’s annoying smirk only widened as he turned to face him. “Should we wake her?”

“No.” Azriel shot him a glare. “She’s sleeping.”

“Oh, come on, Shadowsinger.” Eris rolled his eyes. “She’s naked. We both know she doesn’t like sleeping that way. You really think it doesn’t mean anything?”

He knew Eris was right. It wasn’t hot enough yet to justify the open window, the discarded sheets, the lack of clothes. You were probably dealing with the same problem that had plagued him on the continent—surges of heat caused by the frenzy, which you usually handled by spending a good couple of hours locked inside with your mates. But they’d been away too long.

Eris took a step toward the bed, but Azriel shot out a hand and grabbed his arm to stop him. The redhead twirled around, an almost feral look in his amber eyes visible even in the darkness of the room.

“She needs me,” he seethed, yanking his arm free. At Azriel’s pointed look, he seemed to calm down. With a sigh, he added grudgingly, “Fine. Us. She needs us.”

Despite his own raging desire, despite the truth in Eris’s words and the need to touch you, taste you, bury himself inside you and never let go, Azriel still hesitated. You looked so peaceful as you slept—lips slightly parted, hair fanned out across the pillow, moonlight caressing your back and the curve of your ass.

“Just get changed and climb into bed, Vanserra,” he finally said. “Don’t you dare wake her up. You can wait until morning.”

No matter that he didn’t know how he would wait until morning while sleeping next to you, naked, after days of missing you.

The shuffling of sheets caught his attention, and both he and Eris turned just in time to see you stir slightly and roll onto your back. Azriel went rigid as your new position granted him a clear view of your body—from your soft breasts to the flare of your hips and the dip between your legs. Eris gasped softly at his side.

“Guys?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. “Is that you?”

Both males immediately approached the bed, but Eris got there a second earlier. He flashed Azriel a gloating smile before reaching for you, running his slender fingers down your cheek.

“Hello, my darling,” he purred.

Azriel wanted to punch him in those perfect teeth.

Instead, he moved to your other side, wings tucked tight to his back so he could lean in close. “I'm sorry we woke you, angel,” he murmured. Unable to hold back any longer, he curled his hand around your waist, as if to pull you closer. Eris shot him a warning look, daring him to try.

“Don’t be,” you replied with a sleepy smile. “I’m not.”

You stretched with a soft hum, and Azriel's fingers squeezed you a bit tighter. Did you do it on purpose? Or were you just naively unaware of the effect you had on him? On both of them?

Lowering your arms again, your hands found their way to both their cheeks—one in each palm, your touch gentle as you welcomed them home.

“So,” you began, all traces of sleep gone from your voice, replaced by a teasing tilt, “who's getting the first kiss?”

They both moved, but Azriel was faster this time. His mouth found yours, lips finally meeting again, tongues moving in a familiar rhythm. But the tenderness of the kiss was short-lived as the frenzy overtook you both.

Your hand slipped from Eris's cheek to tangle in Azriel's hair, pulling him closer and drawing a low groan from his chest. His arm wrapped more securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and he was only dimly aware of Eris kissing your neck as he got lost in the hungry need to claim your mouth and every other inch of you.

But you pulled back before he could go further.

A satisfied smile graced your lips, but you didn't give him time to act. Instead, you tugged on Eris’s hair.

The Heir of Autumn lifted his head, and Azriel could only watch as the two of you shared a kiss as passionate as the one you'd shared with him.

He didn't know how you did it, but you always managed to split your time and your affection equally between your two mates. He loved that about you. It meant he didn't have to worry about you favoring and focusing only on Eris—which he was grateful for—but it also meant that you wouldn't favor and focus only on him.

Azriel shifted to lie more comfortably on the bed, planting a trail of open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone to your soft breasts. He captured one nipple between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue while kneading your other breast with his hand.

The scent of your arousal soon filled the room and Azriel's senses. After days away from you, it made him need you the way he needed air to breathe. More, even.

His hand caressed down your stomach to where he knew he'd find you already wet. But instead, he found Eris’s hand already there, his fingers buried inside you, pumping slowly. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but as if sensing it, Eris moved his thumb aside, granting Azriel access to your clit.

It wasn't enough, but it was better than nothing.

You broke off your kiss with Eris when a moan spilled from your lips. Squirming between them, you spread your legs wider in a silent request for more.

“I’ve missed you,” Azriel murmured, releasing your nipple to look up at you, the pad of his thumb pressed firmly against your clit.

Of course, Eris had to chime in and steal your attention. “I’ve missed you more,” he added, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and drawing another moan.

“Guys,” you chuckled, though your voice was a little breathless, “I’ve missed you too. Both of you.” Your hands reached out to palm the bulges in their pants. “And I need you…”

They both sucked in a breath, but while Azriel pressed himself eagerly into your touch, ready to peel off his fighting leathers and bury himself inside you, Eris still didn’t withdraw his fingers from your cunt.

Azriel shot him a glare, but the redhead only smirked before positioning himself between your legs. “You should learn the art of patience, Shadowsinger,” he drawled, then he lowered his head and closed his lips around your clit.

A wave of annoyance surged through Azriel at the teasing reprimand, as if he hadn’t spent hours worshipping you and making sure you were fully satisfied before ever allowing himself to come. As sharing you with Eris wasn’t proof enough of just how patient he could be.

“Az…”

Your voice snapped him back to you. You were biting your lower lip, soft whimpers escaping you as Eris pleasured you, but your hands were now working to unbuckle Azriel's pants. When you finally got them undone, he stood to take them off, along with the rest of his clothes, discarding everything on the floor.

The moment he joined you again on the bed, your hands were on him. You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, giving him a gentle squeeze that made him buck in your grasp. He barely had time to steady himself before you propped up on one forearm and guided him into your mouth.

Azriel gasped, his eyes nearly rolling back as you swirled your tongue around his leaking tip. “Fuck…” he breathed. His fingers curled into your hair, and then he was thrusting shallowly into your warm, welcoming mouth.

Your muffled moans mixed with Azriel’s and with Eris’s pleased hums against your flesh every time your hips bucked—his lips and fingers relentless in their assault on your senses.

As you took Azriel deeper and relaxed your throat around him, he groaned, chest heaving and head falling back. His hips jerked forward instinctively, and you gagged around him, but you didn’t pull back or signal for him to stop. You simply looked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, now wide with lust and fluttering beneath Eris’s expert touch.

Azriel knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not if you kept looking at him like that while sucking him off so eagerly. He managed to hold back for a few more moments, but as pressure built and release surged closer, he pulled out of your mouth with a grunt.

You gasped for air, lips still parted, as if expecting him to push back in.

Azriel’s hand moved from the back of your head to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Not yet, my love,” he murmured, his voice slightly breathless. “I don’t want to come just yet.”

Before you could reply, Eris lifted his head from between your thighs. “Should we let her come, though?” he mused as his fingers curled inside you, drawing a whimper from your lips. “She’s so close. I can tell.”

Azriel glanced at him, a silent understanding passing between them. You came first. Always. Even if it wasn't by his hand. Not yet, at least.

“What do you think, angel?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. “Should we let you come already?”

You nodded, eyes darting between the two of them. “Yes… I need to come.”

Azriel looked back at Eris with a smirk. “Make her come, Vanserra.”

Eris didn’t waste a second. He lowered his mouth to your cunt again, and as much as Azriel wanted to be the one tasting you and making you squirm and moan, he couldn't deny how incredibly arousing it was to watch Eris Vanserra feast on you.

Your hand slipped into Azriel's, holding onto him as your breaths turned into pants. He leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss while his other hand cupped your breast, skilled fingers teasing your nipple with practiced ease.

It was only a matter of moments before your body arched off the bed, your muscles tensing and trembling as you came on Eris’s tongue and fingers. Azriel swallowed your soft cries, unwilling to break the kiss just yet.

Only when you relaxed again did he pull back, at the same time Eris lifted his head. You were panting, one final whimper escaping your lips as Eris slowly pulled his fingers out of you. But just as he brought them to his mouth to lick them clean, you reached out to stop him.

“Wait,” you urged. “Let Azriel do it.”

Both males froze. Azriel's eyes widened in surprise, Eris merely arched a brow.

“You want him to suck my fingers?”

“Yes.” You pushed yourself up slightly, a sly smile curving your lips. “Give him a chance to taste me.”

It was just an excuse, Azriel knew that. Why taste you from Eris's fingers when he could do it directly from the source? But he also knew that you loved watching them touch not just you, but each other as well.

It was how it had all started, after all. You had asked them if they could please kiss each other, at least once, to know what it felt like. It had taken a little convincing, but neither of them could ever say no to you. You'd asked again after that. Sometimes not only for a kiss. And sometimes, you didn't even have to ask.

“Fine,” Azriel grumbled.

You and Eris both stared at him, likely surprised he'd agreed so quickly. But after fucking Eris while he went down on you, licking his fingers didn't seem like such a big deal.

The Heir of Autumn turned toward him, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “Eager, Shadowsinger?”

“Shut up, Vanserra,” he growled back. “Just give me your damn hand.”

Eris opened his mouth to reply, but you spoke first.

“Boys, boys, please,” you said with a soft laugh. “No need to get heated over this, don't you think?”

“Sorry, my love,” they answered in unison.

They exchanged an awkward glance, but then Eris lifted his hand, his lips curling in amusement.

Azriel didn't let himself second-guess it as he grabbed the male's wrist and tugged him closer. He glanced at you—still smiling at them—one last time before sealing his lips around the two fingers Eris had buried inside you.

Your slick release still coated them, the familiar taste flooding his mouth, laced now with something distinctly Eris. His skin.

Azriel swirled his tongue around the long digits, torn between savoring it or getting it over with quickly. He could already hear the comments Eris was certainly holding back, especially when that small smile curved into a full grin. Azriel shot him a glare, sharp enough to silence any smug remarks, but Eris just arched an amused brow in response.

Even after Azriel pulled away, the two males exchanged a long, heated glance—only for your voice to pull them both back to earth.

“Beautiful,” you murmured, your hungry gaze sweeping over them. Azriel felt desire stir in his gut again, but you turned to Eris, nodding toward his still clothed form. “Don’t you think it’s time you took those off?”

Eris nodded instantly. “Of course, my darling.”

As he stood to undress, Azriel moved to take the spot Eris had just vacated—right between your legs, where he wanted to be. But you shifted first, flashing him a playful wink as you got on your hands and knees.

Azriel grinned, his hands sliding over your hips. “Is this how you want me?”

Eris, now fully naked, settled in front of you. “Us, Shadowsinger,” he corrected smoothly. “It’s how she wants us.” He caressed your cheek. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

“C’mon, guys,” you mumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice, “you know you don’t need to fight over me. Why don’t you kiss each other while fucking me to make up for it?”

Azriel didn’t particularly care about the first part of that suggestion. All he heard was your permission to fuck you, and he was more than ready bury his cock inside you.

Eris replied with something Azriel didn’t listen to, one hand already tightening around your waist while he lined himself up with your dripping folds. Just brushing his cock against your cunt made his breath hitch. But instead of pushing inside, he glanced up and met Eris’s eyes over your back.

Despite their differences and apparent dislike for each other, they’d developed a silent language since your mating ceremony—one that didn't need words. After Eris positioned himself in front of you, his cock brushing your parted lips, he gave a small nod. That was all he took.

They thrust forward in perfect unison.

Three moans echoed in the room—yours the loudest of all—as they filled you from both ends.

It was heaven.

It had only been a few days since Azriel last felt you clench around his cock, but fuck, he had missed it. Would always miss it. Frenzy or not, he loved you.

You took them so beautifully, every movement of your body pulling them deeper, every sound from your lips making Azriel want to come far too soon. Their rhythm was one they'd practiced and refined—measured thrusts, timed perfectly, all for your pleasure.

But even as Azriel focused on the feel of you wrapped around him he felt Eris's gaze lingering on him.

“You heard the lady,” Eris said, his voice strained as your mouth moved over his cock. “So what are we waiting for?”

Azriel lifted a brow, hips never slowing. “Eager to kiss me, Eris?”

The Autumn Heir faltered for just a beat before his thrusts resumed, amber eyes glinting. He leaned forward, sliding deeper into your mouth—not that you minded, judging by the muffled moan you gave—and leaned ever closer to Azriel.

“You suck my fingers and suddenly you use my first name?” he drawled.

Azriel blinked. He hadn’t even realized he'd said it. It had just come out naturally.

He wondered, briefly, how it would feel to hear Eris say his name in return.

“Shut up,” he muttered instead.

Still holding your waist with one hand, he reached up with the other and pulled Eris closer. Their mouths met in a heated, desperate kiss—both of them trying to take control, neither of them willing to give it.

The room filled with sound—skin on skin, soft gasps and muffled moans, the creak of the bed frame, and the wet, urgent heat of their kiss.

And as your body clenched around him and Eris's tongue slid against his, Azriel knew.

He was exactly where he was meant to be.

With his mate, and with whatever Eris Vanserra was starting to become.

Y/N had learned that in the court of Nightmares.

Down here, time didn't pass. It rotted. It curled in the corners with the dust and old blood, whispering that no one was coming. No one cared. No one even remembered she existed.

Rhysand certainly didn't.

Her dear half-brother--beloved High Lord of the Night Court--had never once come looking. Never once wondered why his father suddenly stopped mentioning the bastard he created. Never once sensed her magic crackling through the cracks of this place like lightning begging to break free.

And the others? The Inner Circle he loved so much? His mate?

Shadowsinger. General. High Lady. His Second in Command. His cousin. Archeron sisters.

A perfect little family. Conveniently missing the girl rotting in the basement.

Y/N wasn't sure when hate became easier to hold than hope. Probably the day Beron murdered her mother in front of her. Probably the moment his guards chained her beneath this court and called it a "mercy."

She had survived anyway. Starved, beaten, caged--but not broken.

And today...the shadows felt different. They twitched against the walls like animals scenting blood. The air was wrong. Anticipating.

Someone was coming.

Not the guards. Not Beron's lackeys.

Someone powerful enough to shake the wards. Someone whose magic scraped against hers like flint striking steel. Two someones.

How was she feeling this? How did this feeling suddenly consume her?

One was fire. Controlled, arrogant, smug even from a distance. The other...shadows. Cold. Endless.

If Rhysand had finally remembered he had a sister, he was too late. She would not be saved. She would burn her way out. Even if she had to kill them first.

Eris leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the edge of his desk, the flicker of candlelight dancing across the scattered papers. He let out a long, slow breath, glancing at Azriel, who stood silently in the corner, shadows clinging to him like a second skin.

Rhysand's voice cut through the quiet, sharp and incredulous. "That's impossible. I am the High Lord. There isn't any place in the Court of Nightmares that I am not familiar with."

Eris huffed a short, dry, sound, and let his gaze wander between the two males. Azriel's expression was unreadable, lost in thought as always, but he could see the tension coiling in the shadows around him.

Earlier that day had been a storm of discovery. Beron's ledgers, ancient contracts, and the dust-choked files of the Court of Nightmares had revealed it all. A reference buried deep in a contract: Night Court Princess. Hidden Ward-protected. Powerful. His first instinct had been disbelief, followed almost immediately by fury--and a plan.

Azriel had been the first he'd called. "Inform Rhys. Tell him to winnow here. Now."

And now, here they were. Rhysand, the great High Lord himself, and Azriel, the master of Shadows, both staring at him like he'd just announced the sky was falling.

"Do you two not realize the great sensitivity of the issue?" Eris asked, disbelief threading his tone. The small chuckle that followed was almost decisive. "You're staring at me like I've grown a second head."

Rhysand's eyes narrowed, but he didn't answer. Azriel's shadows twitched, restless.

Eris slammed a finger on the words written clearly on the parchment before him: Night Court Princess.

"This," he said slowly, deliberately, letting the weight of the words hang in the air, "means that you, dear Rhysand, have a half sister."

Rhysand blinked. Twice. His jaw clenched.

"Because if the two of you were from the same mother," Eris continued, his voice sharp as a knife, "I doubt your father would've had her locked somewhere warded and hidden. And you know as well as I do, your dearest papa wasn't the benevolent god everyone thinks he was. You haven't felt her...because that was how it was meant to be. She's quite literally somewhere no one knows within your court. Hidden. Heavily guarded."

Azriel's voice broke the silence, soft, almost a whisper. "Strong powers."

Eris' eyes met his mate's, and he repeated the words, deliberate and measured. "Strong powers. So strong she needs to be completely erased from existence."

The room was silent, heavy. Rhysand's lips parted, then pressed into a thin line. Shock, disbelief, and guilt rippled through him.

"She's...my blood?" Rhysand's voice was low, tight with a mixture of fury and disbelief. Azriel stepped closer, voice firm but calm. "We will find her, Rhys. We will."

Eris leaned back again, expression hard. "I take this mission upon myself. I will go in first. I will locate her, assess the threat."

Azriel's eyes snapped to him, sharp, fierce.

"No. I won't allow you to do this alone, Eris."

Rhysand's gaze flicked between them, his mind racing, high lord instincts snapping back into place. He inhaled slowly, the fire of determination creeping back into his chest. "Then we do this together. I will not leave her. She is my sister. She is my blood. And no one--no one--keeps her from me again."

The tension in the room shifted slightly, softened by a quiet moment. Azriel's hand brushed against Eris' as he moved closer to the desk, a subtle, intimate reassurance. Eris' shoulders loosened fractionally, the tension between them unspoken but understood.

Then Azriel's shadows shimmered along the floor, ready. Rhysand squared his shoulders, letting the cold, calculating High Lord return. "Let's go, Az. But we do this the right way. Call Cassian and Mor, I will need their help. We can't let anyone else know about this or else we risk my sister's life even more. Eris, I will be expecting you to gather more information from all of this by tomorrow. We will be heading to the Court of Nightmares in two days."

And with that, both males vanished from Eris' view. Leaving him to glance around his office, the weight of what lay ahead finally settling in.

The mission had begun.

The dungeon long ago stopped feeling like a place, it was a condition.

A living, breathing thing that gnawed at her sanity one slow, patient bite at a time. The stone was always cold, the air always damp, the silence always pressing--as if the darkness itself were waiting for her to finally give in.

Y/N lay curled on her side, knees tucked to her chest, the thin shift she wore clinging to skin mapped with faded scars. Scars that told stories she no longer bothered to remember. Stories she survived out of spite, not hope.

Hope had been the first thing to die.

She could still recall the moment it snapped--cleanly, brutally--like bone under pressure.

It wasn't the first beating. It wasn't the chains. It was her mother.

Her mother's blood.

Her mother's last breath, spent whispering her name. Her mother's fingers trembling against her cheek before going still.

She had screamed then--a raw, desperate sound she didn't recognize. But when the cell door slammed shut on her first night in the darkness...she stopped screaming.

Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Months bled into years. She lost track somewhere between the tenth and the hundredth time she tried to count.

She learned to mark time by other things: the rhythm of dripping water, the scrape of a guard's boot passing by, the faint hum of wards vibrating against her skin like a cage made of magic instead of iron.

And throughout all of it, she never once felt a tug in her chest. A thread. A bond. Maybe her so called father would take mercy upon her. Maybe her half-brother would come find her. But...that was just bullshit and Y/N understood that after her fifth year.

Blood never called to blood. She was well and truly forgotten.

Her breathing hitched when she thought that--forgotten--because there was a time, long ago, that she would have cried at the idea.

Now?

She only felt numb.

Her magic simmered somewhere deep inside her, coiled and forced to stay there. Y/N didn't know how or when they did it but she just couldn't use her powers. She remembers the first time she tried to attack the guards with her mind and froze in shock when absolutely nothing happened.

They took that from her too.

It pressed at her ribs when she was angry, hummed beneath her skin when she dreamed. But the wards made sure it never rose. Never broke free.

Some days she wondered what it would feel like if she stopped resisting, let the power turn inward, burn her out from the inside.

A clean ending.

Quieter than this slow decay.

She didn't think that was tragic anymore--just...logical.

Y/N shifted, wincing as dried blood cracked along her knuckles. She had smashed her fist into the wall last night. She couldn't remember why. Anger had become a habit. Something to prove that she was still alive.

Her gaze drifted to the ceiling--a slab of stone far above her reach. She used to imagine stars beyond it. A sky. Fresh air. Open space.

Now she only saw weight.

The crushing reminder that she was buried.

Her voice, when she finally spoke for no one but the walls to hear, sounded like someone else's.

"...How much longer?" she whispered.

The darkness, as always, answered with absolute silence.

Y/N closed her eyes.

And somewhere deep inside her chest, something flickered--not hope, not fear, but the faintest tremor of change.

A warning. A promise.

Something was shifting. Not outside. Within her.

The kind of shift that happened when magic tested its cage one last time.

The kind that made the wards hum a little sharper. The kind that meant the girl in the dungeon wasn't as dead inside as everyone hoped.

Not yet.

"...I've traced every known passage beneath the Hewn City."

Azriel's voice cut through the room, low and steady, even as a restless chill crawled beneath his skin. Shadows curled along the floor around his boots, agitated.

The entire Inner Circle was gathered in the River House: Rhys at the head, Feyre beside him, Cassian lounging with forced ease, Nesta razor-straight, Amren perched like a predator, Mor leaning forward, and Eris standing against the far wall--hands clasped behind his back, expression carved from amber.

Azriel continued.

"I've cross-referenced old war maps, compared power signatures across every restricted section of the court of Nightmares, and gathered all intelligence from spies stationed there over the last decade."

Cassian nodded. "So nothing slips in or out without us knowing. It has always been like this. I don't understand how this situation can even happen...We always knew of everything that happened within our borders."

Az shook his head. "At least...that's what we think we know."

A ripple moved through the room--confusion, curiosity. Rhys' violet eyes sharpened. Mor straightened. Azriel drew in a breath and began:

"There's a blind spot. A small one. About the size of a single chamber. Wards so old they don't match any high lord's signature. They're scavenged--layered, altered, buried beneath spells meant to erase their presence entirely."

Feyre frowned. "Erase? As in--hide something?"

Azriel nodded once. "Or someone."

A heavy silence fell.

Eris didn't move, but Azriel felt his mate's attention like a hand on his spine.

Rhys leaned forward slowly. "Explain."

Azriel forced his voice to stay calm. "Earlier, when Eris showed the inscribed document from Beron's vault--mentioning a 'Night Court princess' with unassessed power levels. The dates do not match any known lineage. The wards I found date back roughly the same number of years."

Nesta inhaled sharply. "So the hidden chamber...could be- "

"A cell," Mor finished quietly.

Azriel kept going. "Someone with significant raw power. Someone warded so thoroughly we would never sense her presence. Not even you, Rhys."

Rhysand's jaw locked. A muscle twitched beneath his eye. Az took out the old sheet of parchment Eris had delivered hours ago. "These symbols--Beron kept them hidden. He didn't want to risk someone tracing their meaning."

Rhys' gaze dropped to the page. And then his pupils blew wide.

Azriel felt the moment everything snapped together in Rhysand's mind--like the explosion of a star collapsing inward.

"My father," Rhys said softly. "He tampered with bloodlines. If we shared the same mother, she would've been raised beside me. So she didn't."

His head lifted, and fury--cold, ancient, lethal--filled his eyes.

"She's his bastard. Beron found out. He would've seen her as a threat. A political weapon. So he locked her away before her power matured. And because we carry the same blood, our courts both had reason to hide her."

Feyre whispered, "Mother above..."

Cassian swore. Mor's hand flew to her chest. Nesta's eyes flared with something like horror. Azriel swallowed.

Because the truth had a taste. It tasted like inevitability. Like destiny tightening around him like a fist.

Rhys stood abruptly. "I don't care about the protocols. We find her. We go in, we break every ward, we level the fucking mountain if we have to." His dropped to a razor whisper. "No more hidden anything or anyone in my court."

Voices erupted--plans, questions, strategies.

Azriel didn't speak. Couldn't.

Because while they debated, while Cassian suggested scouting some of Helion's peregrines and Feyre offered winnowing in and out quickly as a solution and Amren muttered about ancient ward-break methods...

Azriel felt something wrong inside his chest. A pull. A need.

A fierce, inexplicable urgency that had nothing to do with duty. He tried to smother it--but shadows surged up his throat like smoke.

She's part of us, he told himself. She's Rhysand's sister. That's why.

But the excuse rang hollow. It felt like more. More than family. More than obligation. More than anything he had words for.

A soft brush touched his mind. Eris.

Az didn't flinch, didn't turn. Didn't give a single sign they were speaking mind-to-mind in a room full of observant predators. Also, it was the fact that Rhys would be pissed as hell to know that he taught Eris how to speak mentally.

You felt it too, Eris murmured through the bond.

A statement, not a question.

Azriel swallowed. I don't know what I feel.

Eris' mental laugh was quiet, strained. Liar.

Az's jaw tightened.

We need caution, Eris continued, tone sharpening. Whatever this is--whatever she is--we approach carefully. We cannot compromise ourselves or her safety.

"I know," Azriel murmured aloud, disguised as a comment to Nesta's suggestion.

Across the room, Eris' amber eyes flicked to him--warm, just for a heartbeat.

I love you, Azriel, Eris whispered.

The words tightened Az's chest painfully. He sent them back before he could stop himself. I love you.

A tiny smile ghosted Eris' lips. Gone an instant later as Rhys' voice snapped the room back into focus. "We leave in one day. Enough time to gather intel, prepare, break every barrier between her and freedom."

Azriel nodded stiffly, shadows curling around him like a vow. He didn't know why this mattered so much. But he knew one thing: He would find her. Or he would burn the mountain trying.

Night pressed heavily against the windows of the guest suite, thick and violet-soft, the hum of the Sidra barely audible. Velaris slept.

Eris did not.

He sat on the edge of the bed-bare torso bowed forward, elbows braced on his knees--staring at nothing. His thoughts kept looping, weaving, tightening.

The mission is set.

Rhysand had made the plan painfully clear: He and Feyre would enter the Court of Nightmares at dawn, flanked by Cassian, Nesta, and Mor--nothing unusual, nothing suspicious. A High Lord visiting his sub court was common enough that even the warded fools of the Hewn City wouldn't question it.

Meanwhile, Eris and Azriel would slip in unseen, moving through tunnels and shadow-paths Azriel had never explained in detail. Eris had long stopped trying to understand how the Shadowsinger knew half the things he knew.

Their task: Find the hidden warded chamber. Break into it using the decoding Amren had provided. Extract the girl.

Rhysand's half-sister.

The lost Night Court princess.

Eris exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair.

Hours ago--when Rhys had first read the document, fury shaking every breath--Eris had felt it. The High Lord's devastation. His disbelief. His guilt. A silent storm that filled the entire war room.

I am the High Lord, Rhys had said. There isn't a place in the Court of Nightmares and Dreams I don't know. How could this be under my nose?

Eris' own heart had tinged at the rawness in his voice. Because Eris understood. He understood the betrayal of discovering that the evil you thought you knew was so much worse. That the cruelty of a father could run deeper than you had ever imagined.

He remembered standing in his father's sealed vault after his passing (or murder), the parchment trembling in his hands.

He had known Beron was a monster. He had not known he was this kind.

Why would Beron agree to this? Why help another high lord hide a bastard child--only to imprison her himself? What did he gain? What was exchanged between those two?

The questions had gnawed at Eris all day.

He stared down at his hands when a soft shift beside him pulled him from the spiral.

"Eris?"

Azriel's voice. Low. Rough with sleep, warm with something gentler.

Eris turned.

Azriel lay half-propped on one elbow, shadows drifting lazily around him like they hadn't been hissing at him all day. His hair was mussed, bare chest rising and falling slowly beneath the thin sheet.

He was beautiful. And concerned.

Eris forced a breath. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," Az murmured, studying him with that piercing depth only he possessed. "You're thinking too loudly."

Eris huffed a humorless laugh and looked away. "Hard not to."

Azriel shifted closer, sheet slipping down his torso. "Talk to me."

Eris swallowed. "My father," he said quietly. "I knew he was cruel. But this..." His jaw tightened. "Why involve himself in a plot this sick? Why hide a faeling that wasn't even his?"

Azriel didn't answer immediately.

He sat up fully, reaching out. His hand brushed Eris' thigh--not in any sexual way, just grounding warmth.

"We may never know what Beron gained from this," Az said gently. "But we know what she lost."

The words sank deep.

Eris nodded once. "And yet...why now? Why are we only feeling this...pull now? She's been locked away for years."

Azriel's throat bobbed. "I don't know."

But his shadows shivered--like they disagreed. Eris watched him carefully. "Az."

Azriel met his gaze, eyes dark and troubled. "It feels wrong," he admitted softly. "This urgency. This...need to get to her." His brows furrowed. "She's Rhys' sister--that should be enough. Especially after the fact that he had already lost one sister. The mere knowledge that another sister of his is alive and suffering is eating him alive. But it isn't. It isn't enough for me, Eris."

Eris' breath caught. Yes. Yes, he felt it too. Like a thread pulled tight inside him, humming with something ancient and insistent. "I don't understand it," Azriel whispered. "But it's there."

Eris lifted a hand, cupping Azriel's jaw. "We'll figure it out. After we get her out."

Azriel closed his eyes for a heartbeat, leaning into the touch like a male starved. Then his mind brushed Eris', warm and familiar. We need to be careful tomorrow.

I know, Eris responded silently.

Az's eyes opened--soft, vulnerable. Something unspoken moved between them. A small, fleeting smile tugged at Eris' lips before fading, replaced by the grim resolve they both shared.

Tomorrow, they would enter the darkness. Tomorrow, they would find the lost sister.

Azriel leaned his forehead to Eris', voice barely a whisper. "Get some sleep, Eris. We go at dawn."

Eris nodded but he didn't move away. Neither did Azriel. Because both of them felt it-

Somewhere deep beneath Hewn City...the girl was waiting. And something inside them was already reaching back.

The obsidian pillars of the Court of Nightmares rose like teeth, catching the torchlight in jagged, cruel gleams. Azriel stood in the far shadows of the throne room's entrance as Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, Nesta and Mor strode inward--an illusion of calm domination masking the violence coiled beneath their skin.

Eris lingered at Azriel's side, a half-step behind, his posture deceptively relaxed, hidden in his shadows. Only Azriel noticed the tension in his hands. Only Azriel heard the sharp double-beat of his heart.

The distraction had begun.

Rhys's voice echoed through the chamber, smooth and cold, commanding attention. The crowd parted for him like a shoreline bowing to the tide.

Azriel exhaled once. The promise Rhys had extracted from him pressed like a brand on his spine. "Don't fail me. Don't fail her."

Rhys rarely asked. He never begged. Azriel had no intention of returning empty-handed.

Eris unrolled the tightly folded map Amren had given them--layered with wards, tunnels, pressure points beneath the mountain. It was old. Incomplete. And Amren's parting words were hardly reassuring: "You'll have to rely on your instincts. And...on him."

Azriel tried not to let his jaw tighten.

Shadows fluttered all around him now, whispering routes, warning of heat signatures beneath stone. The underground maze sprawled into dozens of paths. Too many dead ends. Too many traps.

Too much time wasted...if they chose wrong. But he wouldn't leave without her. Even if it meant tearing the mountain down with his bare hands. He turned to Eris. "Ready?"

Eris's smirk was quick, sharp, masking the storm Azriel could sense beneath. "Let's just hope luck is on our side today."

Azriel's siphons flared once, shadows gathering at his feet like an eager tide. "Luck," he murmured, "has nothing to do with it."

He gripped Eris's arm, shadows swallowing them both whole--dragging them down into the cold, narrow dark.

The descent felt endless.

Azriel's shadows moved like smoke over his skin, brushing against Eris's magic with cool, inquisitive touches. He pretended it didn't unsettle him. He'd seen many horrors back in his court, survived worse than most ever would. But this--this--felt different.

Because she was down there. Because she had been down there for Cauldron knows how long.

And because Eris still remembered the moment he read the rest of the document in his father's handwriting: "The girl is contained. Do not speak of her."

He'd felt sick. Frozen. And now, walking in suffocating tunnels carved of black stone with only his fire and Azriel's siphons casting light, he felt that sickness again. A pulse of magic throbbed underfoot. Azriel stiffened beside him. "That ward's fresh," the shadowsinger muttered. "She's close."

She.

The stranger none of them had met. The one who felt inexplicably tied to the world twisting around them. He swallowed hard.

Hours ago, lying in his and Azriel's bed at the House of Wind, he hadn't been able to sleep. His thoughts had circled her--her unknown face, the cruelty she must've endured. Now, as the tunnel split into three yawning paths, Azriel halted.

Shadows swirled violently around his boots, tugging at him, frantic.

"Left," he whispered.

Eris nodded, fire licking at his fingertips as he prepared for whatever awaited them. "Then go," he said. "Before Rhys's distraction becomes a war."

Azriel shot forward, silent and lethal.

Eris followed. Both of them running toward the same goal. Both refusing--adamantly refusing--to fail.

The torches outside her cells cracked low, barely cutting through the stale, metallic air. Y/N sat with her back against the cold wall, knees tucked up, staring at nothing. Staring at everything.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor--slow, bored, familiar.

The guards. Their voices drifted towards her cells' bars, smug and unhurried.

"Did you hear?" one snorted. "The almighty high lord decided to grace us peasants with his presence today."

"Surprise visit," another replied, filled with mocking awe. "Probably wants to remind everyone how powerful he is." A laugh. "Or maybe he's checking on his precious pets upstairs."

Her jaw clenched. Rhysand.

Of course he would be here. The perfect high lord with his perfect façade. Her fingers curled against stone.

She'd convinced herself long ago that she wasn't worth saving. That he already knew she was down here. That he allowed it.

And yet-

When the guards kept talking, something ugly and hot twisted in her chest. "High Lord of the Night Court," the first guard sneered. "More like High Lord of Cowards. Dragging his little family around like ornaments."

"His mate, his cousin, all of them," another scoffed. "Parading around like they're better than the rest of us- "

"Shut up," Y/N muttered under her breath before she could stop herself, irritation flaring sharp and sudden. She wasn't even sure why it bothered her. Why the insult tugged at something deep, something buried.

She didn't owe Rhysand anything. She hated him. She hated all of them.

But hearing these pieces of shit mock him--mock the others--felt wrong. Like stones scraping against bone.

She turned her face away, exhaling shakily. The guards kept bickering, unaware or uncaring of her darkening expression. But then-

A distant boom reverberated through the stone. Soft. Faint.

The torches flickered. Silence swallowed the corridor for a heartbeat.

"What was that?" one guard muttered. Another scoffed but his voice trembled. "Probably the tunnels shifting. Happens all the- "

A second crack vibrated through the floor.

Then a scream. Then two more.

Heavy boots thundered through the hallway as newer guards sprinted in, faces pale, eyes wild.

"BREAKTHROUGH!" one shouted. "Someone's in the lower tunnels--wards are failing!"

Her pulse slammed against her ribs.

Another guard stumbled into view, panting. "They're moving fast--shadows--fire--someone's down there- "

Y/N pushed up onto her feet, heart racing so violently it hurt. Shadows and Fire. Breaking wards. Now is her chance.

She could already feel her restrained power slowly begin simmering to the top as more wards got broken.

Please...please...

The corridor trembled again, dust shaking loose from the ceiling. Her hands pressed flat against the iron door, breath ragged.

"This is it," she whispered. "This is my chance. Please--just break the door. Break the gods damned door- "

And the sounds kept getting closer. Louder. Hungrier. Her heart was pounding so hard it rattled her bones. Break the door. Please, just break the door so I can escape.

Darkness pulsed in the hallway. and something--someone--was coming.

Another ward snapped.

Not quietly--not subtly--but like a bone cracking inside the mountain.

Y/N gasped as something hot and familiar rippled under her skin. Magic.

Her magic.

Weak and fractured… but waking.

She staggered back from the bars, clutching the wall as a second wave hit her bloodstream, burning through the numbness that had been her whole existence.

Outside, chaos broke loose.

“GET THE BITCH AND RUN!” a guard shouted, voice cracking with terror.

Her heart lurched.

Now. Now.

This was her only chance.

The nearest guard fumbled for the keys, hands shaking so badly the iron clinked against the lock. He didn’t even realize--none of them did--that the final ward had just fallen.

The moment the door swung open--

Y/N unleashed everything she had left.

Power--raw, wild, starving--burst from her palms.

It slammed into the guard’s chest with a violent crack, launching him backward so hard he crashed into the opposite wall. Stone shattered. The ceiling groaned. Half the damn corridor collapsed onto him.

The entire cell block shook as her magic tore free, ripping the old rusted bars apart like they were paper.

She didn’t wait.

She ran.

Her legs trembled violently beneath her, unused to actual movement, but adrenaline shoved her forward. Her lungs burned, her bare feet stung on cold stone, but she kept going--she had to.

Shouts echoed behind her.

More guards up ahead.

“No--no no no-” she choked out, trying to summon another blast, but her power fizzled, unstable, still fractured.

Two guards lunged.

She dodged one--barely--kicked another, but she was too weak. Too drained. Too slow.

A rough hand grabbed her arm.

Another grabbed her hair.

A third pinned her against the wall.

She thrashed, desperate, terrified-

but she couldn’t overpower all of them.

Not like this.

Not after years locked away.

“Hold her- ”

“She’s awake--how?”

“Just knock her- ”

Then one guard went still.

His eyes rolled back.

His mouth opened.

And shadows--thick, cold, endless shadows--poured into it.

Not just his mouth.

His nose.

His ears.

He collapsed instantly.

Dead.

Another guard screamed--too late--before shadows slipped under his skin, suffocating him from the inside. Y/N froze.

She hit the floor hard, scrambling back, hands shaking violently.

No, no, please-

Not magic like that, not something she couldn’t see or stop-

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the same darkness to crawl into her.

Instead-

A voice, rough and breathless, said:

“Hey--hey, we’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Her eyes snapped open.

Two males stood over her, panting, covered in dirt and blood and sweat.

One with ember-red hair, golden-brown eyes burning with worry, his armor cracked and smoking.

And beside him--a male carved from night.

Dark hair, shadows curling around him like living smoke, face smeared with blood, chest heaving. Beautiful. Terrifying.

The second male crouched and extended a hand toward her.

“Come on,” he said, voice urgent but surprisingly gentle. “We don’t have much time--we need to get out- ”

She stared at his hand.

At the shadows.

At his eyes.

And something inside her snapped. Her palm cracked across his face before she even realized she was moving.

Both males froze.

The ember-haired one blinked, stunned. The shadowed one slowly straightened, shock flickering across his features.

Y/N pushed past them, stumbling, running blindly-

But she felt them coming after her. Heard their footsteps. Panic flared so violently her magic surged again, wild and instinctive.

“NO!” she screamed--raw, terrified. “NO--STAY AWAY!”

Power exploded out of her like a tidal wave. The blast slammed into them both, hurling them backward. The shadows vanished. Flames sputtered. Stone cracked.

She sagged to her knees, vision trembling. That was all she had for now. The world blurred.

And the last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her-

were their faces again, hovering above her.

Two males she didn’t know.

Two males who shouldn’t have been able to find her.

Two males looking at her as if they’d been searching for her their whole lives.

Then everything went black.

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Day 3: To no end - Shadow play - Azriel {Female reader} The shadows love Y/n, and she loves them. She wonders what it would be like if they took control, what do they fantasise about? Problem is... they don't know when to stop.

Day 4: Busted - Caught Masturbating - Sawyer {Female Reader} Ridoc drunkenly challenges Sawyer to participate in NNN (No Nut November), whoever lasts longest, wins. What happens when it gets too much for Sawyer, and he just needs a little release, no big deal...

Day 5: Nom nom - Biting - Eris (Vampire AU {Female Reader}) Reader is a witch making a potion for the local village, but she needs an ingredient from her boyfriend, Eris. She offers him a little incentive to say yes.

Day 6: Milking it - Lactation - Rhysand {Female Reader} Rhysand and reader have recently had a baby, earlier in their relationship, Rhysand mentioned that he'd always wanted to try drinking from his partner. After a long, exhausting day as High Lord, Reader surprises him with just that.

Day 7: Unexpected entanglement - Double penetration - Ridoc/Reader/Sawyer {Female Reader} Reader is moved into the Iron squad and can't help but hear both Ridoc and Sawyer's constant flow of thoughts about... her. Some of them are not family friendly. She gets sick of hearing about it and tells them to act on them.

Day 8: Building bridges - Threesome - Lucien/Reader/Ridoc {Female Reader} (Set after the war) Lucien is in Tyrrendor as an ambassador for Prythian to establish connections and assist in their recovery. Lucien and Ridoc become quick friends, and Reader decides to eavesdrop on them to make sure Ridoc doesn't say anything too stupid. The conversation she overhears leads to an interesting evening of discovery.

Day 9: Feeling worthless - Body worship - Garrick {Female Reader} After RSC training, Garrick lost a lot of muscle mass and gained a lot more scars. He feels unlovable. Reader shows him how wrong he is.

Day 10: Y/n's secret - Lingerie - Aaric {Female Reader} (Set after the war) Aaric comes back from a meeting and almost immediately someone notifies him that his wife went on a massive shopping spree.

Day 11: Show me - Bondage - Sub!Tarquin {Female Reader} Reader has always wanted to try bondage, but Tarquin really doesn't want to hurt her. He proposes that she should show him what she wants him to do.

Day 12: Regretted teachings - Nudes - Bodhi {Female Reader} Reader has always struggled with her body image but she's also an artist. When Bodhi encouraged her to draw herself so she could see her own beauty, this isn't what he meant...

Day 13: Class in session - Toys - Azriel {Female Reader} Azriel is trying to teach his spy in training that one should always remain focused, no matter the situation.

Day 14: Neither the time nor place - Sexting - Liam (College AU{Male Reader}) Liam is working at his part time job in the animal shelter, but reader is missing him, and decides to let him know.

Day 15: Birthday breakfast - Oral fixation(F rec) - Eris {Female Reader} It's his birthday and reader is the only present he wants

Day 16: Two-player game - 69 - Lucien {Female Reader} Reader gives Lucien a reminder that he isn't the only one who knows how to play

Day 17: Drunk words are sober thoughts - Pegging - Ridoc {Female Reader} After a night in Chantara, reader has a little too much to drink, confessing things she never would have. Ridoc is more than willing to go the extra mile for her to get what she wants

Day 18: Maybe the books are right - Somno - Garrick {Male Reader} When Reader goes to take a shower, Garrick takes a peak at what he's reading, Reader shows him exactly what's so great about it.

Day 19: Flooded - Cock warming - Xaden {Female Reader} Xaden is flooded with paperwork, and while Reader doesn't know how to help the Duke, she can help her boyfriend.

Day 20: Teach me - Anal - Bodoc Bodhi has never gotten to this level of intimacy with a man before, Ridoc talks him through it.

Day 21: Missing you - Edging - Azris Azriel just came back from a mission, desperate for his mate who is in a meeting.

Day 22: Revenge - Overstimulation - Azris After Azriel teases Eris during a meeting, he gets revenge on his little bat (Part 2 to Missing You, but can be read alone)

Day 23: In the air - Breath play - Liam {Female Reader} Reader is a 3rd year who helps Liam with his flight maneuvers. Things get intense when Liam tries to tease her, and isn't expecting her to bite back.

Day 24: Taste - Food play - Aaric {Male Reader} Aaric has fancied his guard since he was assigned to him. When the relief falls ill and reader has to take a double-shift with no break, Aaric capitalises on this unique set of circumstances, and invites him inside his room for some food.

Day 25: Offerings - Face riding - Lucien {Female Reader} While Lucien goes out to get dinner, Reader takes a little nap, but her subconscious mind gets her hot and bothered. Lucien is more than happy to help.

Day 26: "Studying" - Oral fixation (M rec) - Aaric {Male Reader} Reader has an interesting study method that he swears by, and who is Aaric to argue with him?

Day 27: Take control - Sensory deprivation - Sub!Xaden {Female Reader} Xaden has been stressed, as usual, and Reader is tired of him not letting her help.

Day 28: Lazy days - Thigh riding - Tarquin {Female Reader} Tarquin is just being the absolute sweetheart that he is and Reader is understandably turned on by it.

Day 29: Patience is a virtue - Brat taming - Eris {Male Reader} Reader is unbelievably horny for his mate. Unfortunately, his mate is also a High Lord, and has other responsibilities. Not that Reader cares, of course.

Day 30: Sex on the beach - Exhibitionism - Tarquin {Female Reader} ...Kinda feel like the title is self explanatory

Day 31: The Plan - Voyeurism - Azris/Reader {Female Reader} Reader is completely fed up with Azriel and Eris's constant fighting. She gives them an ultimatum, either work out their differences, or she leaves.

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