#daddy!azriel

“Love, you can’t even pick up the towel,” he argues, sliding around the counter to pluck it from the ground. You sigh, setting your hip on the counter, but it does little to ease your muscles. What you really want to do is sit down and not get up until the babe arrives.

“I don’t need to pick it up,” you argue. “I was just doing it to be nice since I know how tidy you like the house.”

Azriel raises a brow. “So you didn’t need it for anything?”

“No.”

“And what would you have done with it if I weren’t here?” he teases. “Left it on the floor?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “I could’ve just gotten a new one from the linen closet.”

“That,” Azriel steps in front of you, swooping down to peck a soft kiss to your lips. You melt into him immediately, falling into his warm embrace. His hands come to the base of your spine to knead at the tight muscles there and you sigh in pleasure. Those shadows must have told him about your tender back. They can be useful, sometimes. “Sounds like it would’ve been a good idea.”

You hum in response, lost to your mate’s touch. He’s a godsend, this one. The cauldron picked perfectly. “I still don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know,” Azriel soothes. “It will make me feel better about leaving you though, love. I don’t want to worry about you while I’m gone.”

You don’t want that, either. Don’t want him distracted while he’s on a mission.

“Okay,” you give in when he kneads against a particularly tight knot in your spine. Gods, those hands…you could take him right to bed, maybe even convince your mate to give you a full body massage instead. Yes, that would be nice. “Cassian can stay.”

You refuse to move to the House of Wind. You’d rather be comfortable in your own home, especially since you’ve just begun nesting. Hence, the towel on the floor. Weirdly enough, you wanted that very piece for part of your nest because of all of the times you’ve seen it in Azriel’s hands, twisting it aimlessly between his fingers while conversing while he cooks, thrown over his shoulder while he slices and dices fruits and vegetables. Strange, but you haven’t stopped thinking about it since you felt the urge to collect objects from around your home to comfort yourself with.

So, if Azriel wants you to have a babysitter while he’s gone, the babysitter can join you here.

“Cassian’s going to have the best time rubbing my feet and making me breakfast,” you smile, thinking of all of the things you know you can get your mates best friend to do for you. You know he’ll do it without compliant, because he’s secretly trying to get you to name your first born after him.

Not happening.

“Give him hell, love.”

Basil:

“He wants cake, the baby wants cake,” you defend, stuffing another bite of cake into your mouth. “The baby wants the cake.”

Azriel huffs a laugh, more than amused at your sweet tooth during your second pregnancy. It’s been difficult to get you to eat anything that isn’t coated in chocolate or pumped full of sugar.

Wren, nearing a year old, giggles in his father’s lap. He reaches his hand across the table to your plate, eager to share in the sugary goodness. You lick the icing from your lips and scoot your plate closer to his grabby hands, more than happy to share your treat with your son.

You’re surprised your mate, who has an insane sweet tooth of his own, isn’t getting in on this cake. It’s delicious, the icing creamy and fluffy. The cake is moist, and the moan you let out when you bit into it was almost one you’d be embarrassed about, if you were paying attention to anything other than the dessert.

He’s been letting you eat your fill before even attempting a bite, more so because only a few weeks ago, he’d eaten the last macron, the one you’d been saving for a midnight snack. This babe did not want you to sleep, kicking and squirming inside of you nonstop, more than eager to meet the world. You’d burst into a fit of tears when you noticed your treat was gone, and couldn’t reign in your emotions until Azriel had come home with more than half of the pastries in the case from your favorite shop. Elain even threw in some of her freshly baked pastries after hearing what happened, and you almost lost yourself to another fit of tears at how nice that was of her.

“We’re supposed to be choosing a cake for Wren’s first birthday,” Azriel reminds you gently. Then, teasingly, he says, “Have you even actually tasted the cake with how quickly you’re eating, love?”

You peg him with a look, swallowing down the bite of cake in your mouth. He’s right, this is about Wren, not the baby inside of you who only seems to wiggle around more with a sugar high.

It’s difficult to place the fork down in front of you, but somehow, you manage. You turn toward your son, who hasn’t seemed to notice the way you’d been sampling all of the cakes in front of you. By sampling, you mean inhaling. You’d been inhaling the cake samples in front of you. All seven flavors.  

“Wrenny,” you ask the boy currently mashing a bite of cake onto a napkin. He’s enthralled in the texture, and doesn’t even notice your grimace at the ruined treat.

Azriel slips his hand into yours in comfort.

“What kind of cake do you want for your birthday, baby?” You ask, grabbing a fresh napkin to help him clean up. He protests with a shout, squirming on his father’s lap. Azriel tries his best to soothe the boy, but you’ve disturbed his playtime, and you’re going to pay.

“Come on, buddy,” Azriel smooths the furrow between Wren’s brows. You sit back in your seat, smoothing your hands across your stomach when your son kicks close to your bladder. It’s only a matter of time before he hits his mark, and then your day out at the Rainbow with your mate and son will be over. “Which one do you like best?”

Wren stares at the cakes. Some more gone than others. He reaches for a red cake that’s almost entirely full. You liked that one, but it wasn’t better than the chocolate slice with chocolate frosting. That one only has a small bite left.

Your son grabs a handful of the cake and flings his arms around in excitement. You plant a hand over your mouth as the cake goes flying, only to land in Azriel’s hair. Your shoulders shake with laugher, tears welling in your eyes at the look on your mates face.

Azriel’s grin is blinding. He laughs freely, something he might not have been comfortable doing in public years ago. This, this is all he’s ever wanted. You. A family. A life.

You help your mate rid the cake form his dark locks as much as you can. Frosting sticks to the strands, pulling them this way and that. You swipe at a glob of icing that made its way above his lip, and he stares at you with simmering eyes. The kind of eyes that got you into this situation in the first place. He’s going to need a shower when he gets home, and, if you can put Wren down for a nap, maybe you can join him, too.

When you’ve successfully cleaned as much of Azriel as you can, he plops your son down into your lap and shoves the pile of napkins closer to you before standing.

“Where are you going?” you ask as Wren reaches out for his father. You snag a napkin and his chubby arm, beginning to clean him up.

“I’m going to tip the staff for the mess we made,” he says easily. His eyes are sparkling with amusement and something more, something you can’t wait to get home to. “And I’m going to buy a chocolate cake to bring home with us, since you liked it so much.” He nods to the nearly gone slice on the table, and your heart swells in your chest. You love him so, so much.

Zuzu:

“It’s a girl?” he whispers, voice raw with emotion. Tears flood your eyes at the utter awe in your mate’s eyes. Of course, she has her father wrapped around her finger already.

Azriel places his hands across your stomach. He’s kneeling in front of you, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so vulnerable, not even when he admitted he loved you for the first time, nor when you gave birth to your first and second child. But this little girl growing inside of you, she’s unlocked something special inside of Azriel, and you know that in this moment, that she’s going to have the most loving, protective father there is. And you’re sure her brothers won’t be far behind with that mentality.

She’s the first female born into one of the Inner Circle’s families. Four boys, but not a single girl. And now, everything has changed. You know she is going to be surrounded by so much love, she’s going to be so spoiled. You’ve had conversations with Feyre and Nesta, Elain too, about how cute the female toys and clothing were in the shops lining the Sidra. They all begged you to have a girl when you announced your third pregnancy, placing bets with their mates on whether or not you’d bring a little girl into the family, and their pleading has all paid off.

You can’t wait to tell them.

Azriel kisses across your stomach. You thread your fingers through his hair, allowing him this time with his daughter. It’s sweet, more than, to see him like this. He’s so in love with her already, you can see it in the way his wings wiggle with excitement, the way his thumbs stroke the soft skin where his daughter is growing inside of you.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispers, finally raising his gaze to look at you. He doesn’t move away, instead resting his chin on your stomach. “We’re having a girl.”

You can’t help your smile, a tear escaping your eye. He’s wanted a daughter for just as long as you have, and you promised not to stop having children until you had a girl, but soon, with two boys and one girl, you don’t think you’ll stop until this little one has a sister to play with as well.

You can see the same sentiment in your mates eyes.

“We’re having a girl,” you agree, lifting his chin so you can kiss your mate.

Jax:

“Azriel,” you squeeze your eyes shut through the uncomfortableness of a contraction. Your mate’s hand is strong on your lower back, his other arm gripped tightly in your grasp. “I love you, but are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

“Easy,” Azriel replies gently. His touch is soft but firm as he helps you to your bed. It’s set up with all of the essentials for giving birth, and with this being your fourth child, you’re more than prepared. The little one has been a fairly easy pregnancy, as if each moment spent in your womb was better than the last. He wasn’t eager to meet the world like his older brother, Baz, who kicked you relentlessly for nine months straight. It was almost as if the babe inside of you enjoyed the comfort you provided, but his father and siblings are more than excited to meet the new member of the family.

Your water broke this morning over breakfast with your family. Baz had burst into a fit of giggles over his waffles, pointing and shouting about how you’d peed your pants. Wren, your oldest, perked with excitement, knowing exactly what that meant. He’s slipped from his chair, offering you a tight hug before scampering to his room with his little brother in tow, talking all about how they were going to get to see their cousins while you had another baby.

Zuzu, just one, was covered in whipped cream, giggling and gurgling and making a mess with the sweet cream. You had torn Azriel’s attention from where he bopped a bit of cream onto her nose, and, after a quick once-over, worry lacing his hazel eyes, his face melted into something sweet when he caught your smile, the happy tears in your eyes.

Your son couldn’t choose a more perfect day to enter the world.

“What do you mean?” Azriel asks, pulling back the covers. He’d be latched to your side until the babe entered the world, whenever that may be. Could be nearly an entire day, like Wren, or mere hours, like Baz and Zuzu.

“You’re talking about letting the male who gifted Baz a real blade for Starfall when he was only 3, watch our boys for the night.” You had agreed to the plan at first because you didn’t think Cassian was all that serious about it, but now that it’s really happening, you can’t help but worry.

“Cassian wants this more than anything, love,” Az replies, helping organize the pillows behind your back. When all is to his liking, he sits on the edge of the bed, caressing your face. His hazel eyes are soft, a comfort that you lean into, or as much as you can with your belly in the way. “He’ll be fine. Rhys and Nyx are going to be there too,” he reassures. And well, that doesn’t make you feel that much better. Rhys and Cassian and four children under 6. They’re in for a night. “And Zuz is getting all loved up by her aunties tonight.” Your daughter is spending the night at Feyre’s with her sisters, and you know that if anything, Rhys will have no problem calling in backup for the mischievous little boys.

“You’ll check in on them ever hour?” You ask, trying your best to get comfortable. The babe in your stomach gives a little kick, and you place your hand on your stomach, whispering down to him. “Soon, little guy, soon you’ll meet the world.”

“I’ll check on them every ten minutes if you want me to,” Azriel promises, placing his large hand over yours. Like the babe knows you and your mate are showing him affection, he kicks again. “But I don’t want you to worry. You need to focus on getting little Jax out.” He says the babes name like it’s the best he’s ever heard. He’s done that with all of your children, though. It fills you with warmth, his strong presence eases you into the comfort of your bed.

Malos and Knox:

“A sister!” Zuzu screeches in her uncle’s arms. You wince at the sheer volume of your four-year-old daughter, but you won’t scold her even through one of the hours old newborns in your arms squirms at the sound. She can’t help her excitement at the sight of her little sister, kicking out her tiny legs in demand to be released from Rhys’ clutches. He laughs and tries to situate Zuzu better in his arms. He looks to you for action, and with a soft nod of your head, he lets your daughter down.

Azriel, who has just handed Knox off to Feyre, who has tears in her eyes, quickly catches his oldest daughter around the waist before she can launch herself onto your bed and disturb the snoozing babe.

“Daddy,” Zuzu whines, but clings tightly to his shirt. Azriel immediately smooths her hair back from her face, disheveled from playing with her brothers all morning at her uncle’s house while you gave birth to the two newest members of your family. “I want to see my sissy!”

“Sissy’s sleeping,” he parent’s gently, bringing her closer. He sets Zuzu on the bed but stays close. “You need to be gentle, Zuz. She’s brand new.”

“Brand new,” Zuzu echoes, but you’re not entirely sure she knows what it means. She’s completely distracted by the small bundle in your arms anyway, her dark eyes glowing with delight. She looks up at you, wide-eyed, and you can’t help but smile at your daughter. “She’s mine?”

“She’s your sister,” you laugh softly. You position Malos in your arms so Zuzu can see better.

“Wow,” she whispers, awe in her tone. She softly reaches out and brushes a finger across her sister’s chubby cheeks. The babe makes a noise and Zuzu snatches her hand back to her chest.

“It’s okay, Zuz,” Azriel says gently. “She’s just saying hello.”

Zuzu nods at her father eagerly, then returns her attention to Malos. “Hello, little baby. I’m Zuz. I’m going to be the bestest big sister ever! I’m going to teach you so much, and nothing like our naughty brothers can show you…” She babbles while you share a loving look with your mate.

You were worried how Zuzu might react to a sister. She’s been surrounded by boys for four years, and right now, you can see that this is something special, something pure between the two girls.

“What are their names?” Feyre asks, placing Knox carefully in your arms while your sons join you and the rest of your family on the bed. Jax climbs directly into Azriel’s lap, clinging to him like a monkey. He peers down at the babes in your arms with curiosity.

Wren and Baz settle on your other side, leaning over to see both of the babes. They look just as excited as the rest of your family, and this moment right now, surrounded by your family and the people you love the most, makes everything worthwhile.

You smile at your mate, who gives you a soft nod of encouragement.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Azriel had always tried and succeeded in making your birthdays special. He knew the way you were raised had ruined them for you, nothing but a count down to the day you would be sold off like cattle to a male, likely crueler than your parents.

And he had been. You had been married to a vile excuse for a fae, Marcus at the age of twenty. He beat you for every misstep you made, and in his view nearly everything you had done while together was one.

The food was never delicious enough, you weren’t beautiful enough for a male like him, you talk to other fae too often.

The final straw came when, five years into your arranged marriage, Marcus beat you half to death for not having given him an heir yet. That night, you vowed to yourself that the next day would be the last your husband drew breath.

You prepared him breakfast, even with the broken arm he had given you. Using the small packet of poisonous herbs you had bought when you were feeling brave a few months ago, you slipped some into the middle of his omelette.

And the rest was history.

You were free to live you life, though you had to put your minor healing powers to work to afford the basic necessities. But, you still had the home Marcus had owned, given that he had no living relatives, and it was enough for you.

You had lived your life for another hundred years, as peacefully as one could in the Court of Nightmares.

The first time you saw Azriel had been at a revel, one held for the High Lord’s birthday. Attendance had been mandatory, and as you rarely attended revels you dressed your very best, a black silk floor-length gown with a slit running all the way up your left leg and ending at the top of your thigh. It had thin straps to hold it on both shoulders, and you had never felt more beautiful. It was one of the few things you had saved up to buy, nearly working yourself ragged to do so, but it was worth it.

The way his eyes met your across the room once he entered was electric, and he had made your way over to you almost in an instant.

Your heels had made you four inches taller, but the moment you stood next to the Shadowsinger you felt as if you weren’t wearing them at all. His wings added extra height to him, and you felt so small in comparison. But he didn’t lean over you, attempting to use his height to intimidate you. Instead, he introduced himself.

“My name is Azriel. What is your name, please?”

“I know who you are, Shadowsinger.”

“If you know who I am, would it not be fair for me to know who you are?” Azriel countered. “I merely wish to know the name of my mate.”

Mate. The word struck through you, the bond snapping with such intensity you stumbled slightly in your heels. Azriel steadied you with a calm hand, and you internally scolded yourself.

One conversation and you’re acting like a fool.

“Y/N," you finally respond.

“Y/N,” Azriel said, testing your name out on his tongue. The sound sent instant butterflies into your stomach. “Would you care to join me somewhere more private?” You gave him a look of disdain, having hoped he would be different from the rest. “No no, nothing like that. I figure that the prying eyes and ears turned to hear our every word are something both of us would like to avoid.”

You thought about it for a moment. Truly, the male could have swept you away in an instant, whisking you away to Mother knows where. If he had ill intent, he most likely would have acted upon it already.

“I suppose another location could be nice,” you reply, holding a hand out for him to take. He took it in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Your heart fluttered, tugging lightly on the bond accidentally.

He winnowed the two of you away, and reappeared in a sitting room a moment later.

“I know that this is a shock to you, honestly it’s a shock to me as well,” Azriel started. “I never- I have not once believed that I deserve to be blessed with a mate, but I know that if you choose to pursue the bond, I will take care of you for as long as you allow. Even if you choose to reject the bond, if you would like I will provide you with a home of your own, anywhere you would like in the Night Court.”

Choose to reject- “What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. A male- your mate- was offering to take care of you even if you reject the bond. That was… unheard of here.

“I want to take care of you, even if you have no part in my life. I would enjoy getting to know you if you are open to it, though.”

“I…” You hesitated. A mate was something out of your control. Already, you were acting on instinct instead of carefully planning each action. But… The Mother had judged you as equals, and if he was being truthful… “Make a bargain with me. Promise that you will allow me to leave you permanently and alive if I choose to.”

Azriel blinked at you twice before his face broke into a grin larger than you though possible for such a stoic male. “It’s a bargain, Y/N.”

A burning sensation sparked on your sternum, just below where your dress started. You pulled it back slightly, and saw a delicate moonflower wrapped in shadows. Pretty.

“Tell me about yourself?” Azriel asked lightly.

And you had.

The two of you had gone on a few dates before you even let him inside of your house, and another three months after that you let him stay the night for the first time.

You were slow to trust, even if Azriel had shown no signs of abusive behavior or anything similar. But over time he made his way into your heart, residing around the very middle of it. He was your world now, the one you would do anything for. Even if that made you weak, or soft, and he was the one person you allowed yourself to let your guard down around.

Over a year in, on your birthday, Azriel had spent the entire day with you, a rarity with his job and you occasionally being called away for healing duties. He had cooked you dinner while you watched, flitting around him and wanting to help, but Azriel wouldn’t let you.

The dinner had been wonderful, Azriel was truly gifted in the kitchen. After, Azriel had asked if you would live with him.

You said yes.

The two of you bought a house together in Velaris, a city that made the spark of hope that had ignited in your chest after meeting Azriel turn into a blazing fire. Here, the people were free. They could do whatever they wanted, be whoever they wanted, follow their dreams until the end.

Your dream, your wish that you kept so deeply buried inside of your heart, was to reclaim the softness that had been stolen from you, beaten from your bones.

Azriel had helped with that already, his love and affection melting away the hard exterior you had while in private with him. Five years after meeting, you had accepted the bond on his birthday with his favorite meal, and the frenzy that followed was absolute bliss.

This year was a bit different, Azriel’s sole mission on your birthday was to make your dream for yourself come true, twenty years into your mateship.

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your hair on the eve of your 145th birthday when Azriel called you into your shared bedroom.

“Yes, my love?” You asked as you entered, and then you saw it.

Azriel was holding a baby pink silk nightgown with lace along the hem and a bow on the middle of the collar, far cuter than anything you normally wore. And… you had seen it before. When you went shopping for a set of lingerie to surprise your mate, you had lingered in front of it, testing out the soft feeling of the fabric against your fingers, wishing you were brave enough to purchase something so cute, let alone wear it.

“I… How did you know?”

Redness spread onto Azriel’s cheeks as he confessed, “I might have had a few reports from my shadows about the things you seem to want, but do not buy for yourself. The one that sleeps on the back of your neck all day was particularly vocal about it. I wanted to surprise you, sweetheart, with a wonderful day tomorrow. But that starts tonight, with you wearing this to bed.” His smile was so sweet, your knees went weak. It was always so hard to resist him.

“What is tomorrow?”

“If you allow it, and place full trust in me, I have planned out a day for you to have to make no decisions, just following your instincts.” You wrinkled your nose, the idea of giving up all control was one you had rarely entertained in the dead of night, though it had always been to Azriel… “I know it sounds a bit daunting, but you know that I will never make you do anything that you do not want to, right?”

You nodded your head, that had always been the truth in your relationship. Everything was a mutual agreement, the both of you having issues with trust due to your childhoods.

“And we can drop at any time, and just have a nice day all to ourselves if you don’t enjoy it. All that I ask is that you give it a chance. Will you?”

Having that last piece of knowing it could end at any moment, that small bit of control to put your mind at ease.

“Yes,” you breathed, walking over to where he was standing, nightgown still in his hands.

“Thank you, babydoll. I promise, tomorrow will be wonderful. Now, let me undress you,” he said, setting the nightgown down on the bed and raising the hem of your shirt.

You let him, raising your arms to help. Next came your bra, gently undone with kisses placed on your neck as he did so. Then he unbuttoned your pants, shimmying them down your hips and tossing them away after you lifted your feet.

“Arms up, princess.” You blushed at the nickname, one reserved for tender moments in between the sheets, and did as he said. The nightgown slipped over your head, the fabric running down your body like water. The lace at the edges was soft, no hints of scratchiness to be found.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. So cute and sweet, and all for me,” Azriel whispered into your ear as he pulled you into a hug, your body softening against his after a few moments. A sigh slipped out of your lips, and Azriel kissed the crown of your head before pulling away slowly. “Did you need to do anything else before we go to bed?”

“No, I did everything already Az.”

“Let’s go to sleep then, lovely,” he said, and the two of you slipped beneath the sheets, your back to his chest and his arm wrapped tightly around your chest, one wing cocooning the two of you.

You fell into a peaceful sleep, the scent and feeling of your mate all you could ever think to wish for.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next morning you were awoken to soft kisses trailing down your neck, and the sensation of wet hair tickling you.

Az’s arm was still around you, and you wiggled in his hold, pressing your hips back against his.

“Now, now,” Az tutted, slight disapproval in his voice, and you stilled. “None of that right now, my sweet birthday princess. It’s time for your bath.”

“Mm I don’t want to get out of bed yet though, Az,” you whined. The sheets were far too comfortable, and the nightgown you were wearing was heaven against your skin, plus the hard press of your mate against your rear… no, you wanted to stay in bed.

“I promise the bath with be worth it, babydoll. Come on,” he said, getting out of the bed and taking you with him, carrying you into the bathroom and setting you on your feet.

The bath had already been drawn, a thick layer of bubbles covering the surface and a soothing lavender and chamomile scent wafting from it. Candles were set up along the edge, and a cup of coffee made just how you like was sitting on the counter.

You went to remove your new nightgown before Azriel’s hands stopped you.

“Let me do that, sweetheart.” He lifted the gown of your head and put it in the laundry basket. “Go ahead and get in, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

You did as he said, and the water was at the perfect temperature. Azriel handed you your coffee, and you took a large sip before looking at him.

“You aren’t going to join me?”

Azriel smiled and shook his head. “No, princess, this bath is all about you. I took one just before I woke you up. Drink your coffee, sweetness,” he said, tilting the cup toward your mouth again.

You do as he says again, even though your mind is fighting against it. He had asked that you try, so you would try as hard as you could to enjoy it.

And really, with your body warmed inside by coffee and outside by the luxurious bath Az had drawn for you, it wasn’t too hard to like it so far. Especially once Azriel started to wash your body with a soft cloth, taking is time to massage out any knots in your shoulders and arms. You always were tense with your healing work.

But all of that stress melted away with your mate’s gentle hands cleaning your skin.

When he finally pulled you out of the bath, he dried you off with a fluffy towel, pressing soft kisses all over you. You were feeling sleepy all over again, and just wanted to crawl back into bed with your mate.

“Alright, baby, we just need to get you dressed and then I’ll start breakfast.” Azriel went to the closet and pulled out a lavender wrap dress with short sleeves, another item that you had admired while shopping before. It was buttery soft as Azriel pulled it over your head, and it fell to right above your knees. You felt beautiful.

Azriel brought your slippers over to you, helping secure them on your feet.

“You look even better in this than I thought you would, sweetheart, though I don’t know how that’s possible.” You blush at his words, holding your arms out for a hug. He wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you tight against his chest. He’s so warm, and smells so good. His night chilled mist and cedar scent lulled you into a daze, your eyes glazed over when you met his after he pulled away from you slightly.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

“Hi,” you say back, your voice quiet.

“You doing good?” He asked as his hand caressed your face gently. You could only nod, so at peace and in the moment with your mate. A smile breaks across his face, and he tightened his arms around you once more before he disentangled himself from you.

“Come on babydoll, you can watch me make breakfast,” he said, leading you into the kitchen. He picked you up and set you on the island counter across from the stove.

He pulled out two wrapped packages, a carton of blueberries, and a bowl covered with a lid, then grabs three frying pans out of a cupboard.

"What's for breakfast?" You ask, resisting the urge to kick your feet as they hang in the air from your place on the island counter.

"Pancakes, sausages, bacon and some fruit, my love," Azriel replies, placing a kiss on your forehead when he turned to look at you.

"Do you need any help?" You ask out of habit.

While Azriel does take care of you as much as you allow, it has been hard kicking your old habits of always offering to help, any way to make your eventual suffering easier on you.

"No, sweetheart, I just need you to sit there and look adorable. Can you do that for me?" Azriel requests as he unwraps the sausages and puts them in a pan, then does the same with the bacon.

You sigh. Doing nothing? That's difficult. "I can try, Az."

"Good girl." Now that sent a thrill through you, and put a smile on your face. In the past couple of years you had noticed how much praise had begun effecting you, especially from the lips of your mate.

Azriel began making breakfast, pouring some of the batter he had made before waking you up into one of the pans. He places some blueberries onto it, being more careful with them than usual.

Az could feel your eyes on him, and turned to look at you. "Yes, love?"

"You're being careful with the blueberries," you state.

"Yes I am. I'm making smiley faces in the pancakes, sweetness."

You smile widened, the idea of it was so cute. "Smiley faces?"

"Mhm. I figured I would even make your breakfast cute, Y/N. After all, you're so cute you deserve to eat cute things too." His words sent blood to your cheeks, and your legs started kicking gently in the air.

Azriel returns to the stove, dutifully cooking until he hears you make to get off the counter. He whips around and holds your hips in place. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I... I wanted to help."

He kisses your lips, cheeks, then forehead. "You are too sweet, mate. I have everything under control, I promise. Just stay here and eat some blueberries, okay?" He hands the carton to you, and you pout slightly as you toss one in your mouth.

Azriel turns back to the stove, ready to get the food finished so he can pay more attention to you again.

In a few minutes, he's plated everything and brought it to the table, including a bowl of fruit from the fridge, before returning to you. He picked you up, carrying you over to the table as you giggle in his arms. Azriel gently sets you in your chair, then takes the seat next to you, scooting his chair over so that he's right next to you.

You go to pour some syrup on your pancakes- the smiley faces are pretty adorable- before a hand stops you, taking the bottle from your grasp. "Hey-"

"I told you, sweetheart, that you don't have to do anything today. That includes pouring your syrup and cutting your food." Az pours a generous amount on your pancakes, just the way you like them. He cuts a bite for you, and brings the fork to your mouth.

You look between the bite of food and Azriel, raising a brow.

"Open up, babygirl." His gentle tone coaxes you to give it a try, and you let him feed you the bit of pancake.

The blueberries are just the right amount of sweetness, the pancake itself thick and fluffy. Your eyes close for a moment as you chew, and when you open them Azriel has a soft smile on his face.

“Is it good?”

You nod your head. Azriel’s pancakes are one of your favorite foods he makes, always so delicious and fluffy.

“Good. Open wide,” he said as he brought another forkful to your mouth.

The pattern continued, Azriel taking bites off his own plate while you chewed yours. Before long you were full, turning your head away from the last bite of sausage Azriel was offering you.

“You full, babygirl?”

“Mhm, it was a lot of food, Azzie.” The nickname slipped out of your mouth without you even thinking, a sure sign you were relaxed and happy. “This is nice, so far,” you admitted.

Azriel’s face split into a grin, a rarity on his face, though it was becoming more and more common in your presence. “I knew you would like it, Y/N.” He kissed your forehead, then stood up from the table and offered you a hand. You take it and let him pull you into the bedroom. “Now, we are going to go shopping. But, with the weather, you need to wear a little more than you are now, cutie.”

He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of white woolen tights, and turned back to you. “Sit down on the bed for me.” You do, and he goes to his knees in front of you. He takes off your slippers, then shimmies the tights up your legs until they’re all the way on your hips. “Perfect, sweetheart, you look so adorable in these. Do they feel warm enough to go out into the snow?”

“Yes, I think I will be warm enough. But I’m not sure I have a coat that will be good enough, though…”

Azriel chuckled. “I got one for you specifically for today, but I hope you will wear thicker coats more often. I hate to think of you walking in the cold in just a light jacket when I’m not here, sweetheart.” He pulled you up from the bed, leading you to the entryway closet that he opened, grabbing a puffy white coat that looked like it would go down to your mid-thigh.

You extended your arms without him prompting you, which made him smile again. He slipped the coat onto your arms, buttoning it up methodically. He then grabbed a pair of fluffy white snow boots which you slid your feet into, letting him lace them up for you. He pulled on his own coat, which he let you button up when you gave him a pouty look, then put on his own boots.

“Just a few more things, baby.” He wrapped a light pink knit scarf around your neck, making sure to cover as much skin as he could with it, leaving it loose in the front in case you felt like pulling it over the bottom of your face. Then he slipped matching mittens onto your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of each one beforehand. And the last was a matching hat with a pink puffball on the top. He fit it snuggly onto your head.

“You should wear a hat too, Azzie,” you point out. Especially if it was snowing, you didn’t want your mate to catch a cold. He merely smiled and shook his head at you, grabbing his own black hat and gloves from the closet.

“You worry about me so much, sweetie. I was always going to wear a hat, it’s been snowing since I woke up, after all.” He tapped your nose with his pointer finger, then leaned in for a kiss. It was so gentle and sweet, a perfect kiss if there ever was one. Then again, that was all of their kisses.

The two of you left your home, Azriel locking the door behind you. There was a thick layer of snow on the ground, most likely four of five inches deep.

Azriel grabbed your hand and began leading you down the street that would take the two of you to the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

The snow made the trek take longer than usual, but with your mate’s warm hand encasing yours, you didn’t mind at all. The two of you passed a few shops before you made it to your first destination, a bedding store that the two of you had come to in the past.

He brushed the snow off of your hat and shoulders, the pulled you into the shop.

“Now, sweetheart, I want you to remember to follow your instincts, pick out whatever you feel drawn to, okay?” You nodded your head; After all, the day so far had been amazingly comforting, the caring presence of your mate doing so much to relax you.

He let you wander around the shop, following closely behind you with his shadows swirling around your feet. You paused in front of a shelf of throw blankets, your eyes catching on a blush colored one.

Reaching a hand out, you went to brush your fingers on it before realizing they were still clad in mittens.

“Here, sweetness, let me take that for you,” Azriel said as he removed the mitten from your hand, leaving it free to brush against the blanket.

“It’s so soft,” you breathed. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at Azriel. “Can I get it?” Your voice was shy, still nervous about choosing cute things for yourself.

“Of course, princess. You can get anything you want, today and every day.” He picked the blanket up and held it in his arms. “Keep looking, there’s a lot more you haven’t seen yet.”

You followed his suggestion, walking further into the shop. Your eyes lock onto a sapphire blue pillow, fur all along the top side of it. Your ran your fingers through it- so silky smooth, you just needed to have it. “This too, please,” you whispered to Az, and he licked that up as well. The two of you looked through the rest of the shop, but nothing else caught your interest strongly enough to linger near it. Azriel gently led you with a hand on your back to the counter, placing both items on it.

“Did you find everything you needed?” The clerk asked as he wrote out the total on a receipt, crediting the purchase to your joint account.

“Yes we did, thank you,” Azriel replied, squeezing your hand in his.

“Were you needing a bag at all today?”

“No, thank you, we’ll be fine without one,” Azriel said, grabbing the pillow and blanket off the counter and leading you back to the entrance. Before you stepped outside, he handed the items off to his shadows, letting them carry the goods back to your home. He also pulled your mitten out of his pocket and slipped it back onto your hand.

You left the shop, heading further into the Palace. A few doors down, Azriel opened the door to a clothing store, ushering you inside.

Without prompting, you began to explore the store. This was one you had only looked into from the windows on the street, deeming the clothes, as lovely as they are, too feminine and cutesy for your daily life.

But once inside, you couldn’t help but pick out a decent number of outfits, taking them to into the dressing room to try on, Azriel waiting outside.

“Show me each one that you like, sweetie,” he requested, taking a seat in the chair meant specifically for this purpose.

You do, showing him a halter top and skirt set in a gorgeous blue that matched his siphons near perfectly. “This is perfect, love,” he praises you, pulling you by your hips to him. “It’s so sweet when you match me.”

You giggle softly, placing a kiss on his lips. “I definitely want this one.” You spin your hips, the skirt flaring out attractively from where it had rested at your mid-thigh. “It’s fun to move in,” you say, happiness in your voice.

“Good. Go try on some more, babygirl.”

A few outfits later, and you only found one other piece of clothing you wanted at the moment. It was a shade of pale pink with long, flowing sleeves that came down to the tops of your fingers. The hem reached yours knees, the skirt of the dress separated from the bodice by a matching ribbon at the waistline. The ribbon tied into a bow at the back, something that you would normally never wear out, let alone pick out to try on. But, Azriel had wanted you to try, and it was honestly easier than you had thought it would be to follow your instinctual taste.

You opened the curtain, and Azriel’s jaw dropped open- the only other time that had happened in public was your wedding and mateship ceremony.

“You look…” he paused, and your doubts started creeping in. “You look so, amazingly beautiful sweetheart, like a true angel brought to this earth to bless my life.” He stood up from his chair, scooping you into his arms and twirling you around, causing you to loose a giggle.

“I love this one, it’s so perfect. I feel like a princess,” you say after he sets you down, a wide smile on your face.

“I would have bought it anyways, just for the slightest chance you ever even thought of putting it on again.”

You change back into your clothes, letting Azriel redress you in your outerwear. He brings your two outfits to the front counter, once again handling the interaction for you as you leaned into his side. It was nice, not having to worry about any of the minutiae that went with shopping.

He pulls you out of the shop, a large bag in his hands which he keeps in his hand instead of sending off with his shadows. The two of you make your way over to the Rainbow slowly, enjoying the slow snowfall.

“In here, sweetheart,” Azriel says, guiding you into an art supply shop. “I have something specific in mind for you.”

“Oh? What is it Az?”

“Right here,” he says, extending a hand towards a set of ink pots, neatly packaged together in a wooden box with a glass lid.

“Inks?”

“Yes, I thought you could use something that’s easy, a bit mindless to do when you have free time. I asked Feyre what she thought about an ink set with a few books of drawings to fill in with color, and she thought it was the perfect idea for when you want to do something with your hands, but you don’t want to focus or think. It also comes with quills that are enchanted to return the ink to its pot when you hold it over the correct pot again, that way you won’t have a problem switching between colors… What do you think?”

You thought about it. While it did feel a bit… childish to color in pictures, the idea of having something simple to do when you’re tired but restless would be nice.

“That sounds nice, Az. Do they have books I can pick out here?”

“Yes, they do. They’re over in the back right corner, I’ll meet you over there in a second sweetheart.”

You wandered off into the direction he guided you, finding the selection of coloring books fairly quickly.

One instantly caught your eye, a collection of different creatures found in the Night Court, drawn in a cuter way than they appeared in person. You grabbed that one, and another of plants found in the solar courts.

Azriel came up behind you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, through your hat. You turn around to look at him and held the two books out for him to take, which he did.

“Did you want any others right now?”

“No, I think two will be enough for now. We can always come back again if I want more,” you said, and Azriel’s face softened before he kissed you.

“Alright, I’ll get this paid for and then we have one more stop before we’ll get some tea.”

In a few minutes, the two of you were leaving the shop, another bag in Azriel’s hands. The next shop he led you two was just two doors down from the art supply one, and it was a store you had considered going into every single time you had come to the Rainbow.

The windows were filled with various stuffed animals, plants, and fae. There was a whole half of a window dedicated to Illyrians, all fitted with differently colored siphons, though three you could tell were based off of your mate and his brothers.

That was one of the reasons you had always wanted to enter the shop, having a small miniature Azriel to keep you company while he’s away on long missions and the bond is quieted by the distance.

Azriel drags you inside, taking you over to the display holding the Illyrian plushies.

“Did you want one of me, babygirl?”

Color flushed your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest before nodding.

“Did you want this small one? Or did you want a bigger one, one that’ll be enough to snuggle while I’m gone?”

“…Both?”

A chuckle vibrates through Azriel’s chest. “Both it is, baby. Go ahead and grab the small one, and look at the other options while I get the larger one ordered, okay?”

You grab the small miniature of your mate, then walk slowly towards the counter in the back of the store that Azriel was standing at. You pick up another plush, this one is your favorite flower, and join him at the counter.

“That will be ready in a week or so, Shadowsinger. We will send a note to your home, informing you when it is ready to be pick up. Ah, are these the other purchases?” The clerk asked, taking the plushies from your arms after you nod in confirmation. “Perfect, I will just grab you a bag, and you two are all set. Have a lovely rest of your day,” she says kindly, giving you a warm smile as she hands the bag to you.

Azriel guides you out of the store with a gentle hand on your lower back, and takes the bag from your hand once you’re back in the winter weather.

“How does tea sound to you, love?” Azriel asked, still leading you with that comforting hand.

“Something warm would be nice.”

He leads you to a tea shop that is decorated in soft pastels and smells heavenly, most likely because of the large case of baked goods that instantly drew your eyes. The two of you approach the counter, your eyes passing over every dessert in the case, lingering on a slice of strawberry cake and an adorable cookie, decorated with pink frosting and in the shape of a fox, it’s features drawn on in black frosting.

Azriel talks with the fae at the counter, but you aren’t listening, only looking between the slice of cake and the cookie, trying to decide between the two.

“Anything catching your eye, love?” Azriel asks softly into your ear, startling you from your thoughts.

“Oh, um…” you try to make a decision between the two, but your brain isn’t working fast enough.

“We can share a few, if you want more than one,” Az suggests gently, and when you point out the two items you want, he knows he found your dilemma.

“We’ll have a slice of strawberry cake and one of those pink fox cookies, please,” Azriel says, ordering for you and pressing a kiss to your head.

“But what about the tea-?”

“I already ordered some, love. Come on, let’s go take a seat.” Azriel pulls you to the side of store with a large fireplace, something you hadn’t even noticed when you walked in. He removes your coat, setting it on the back of a chair, then gently pushes you down onto it.

At this point, you feel like all you can do is follow his lead, so relaxed and in the moment that you don’t even want to make decisions.

Azriel sits in the seat next to yours, scooting as close as he can to you like he did with breakfast. He takes each mitten off of your hands, then removes your hat, smoothing out your hair after he sets it down.

Between the fire roaring in front of you and his wing covering your back, you were so warm and cozy you thought you might even be able to take a nap here.

“How are you doing, baby?” He asks lowly in your ear, wrapping an arm around you as well.

You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, something you usually would never do in public. But Azriel is so warm, and smells so wonderful. And he’s here, keeping you safe. Even from prying eyes, with his massive wing blocking you from the windows leading to back to the streets of the Rainbow.

“Perfect,” you sigh, melting further into his shoulder.

The fae who took your order comes over with a tray, a teapot, two teacups, and two plates with the desserts you picked out on top of it. You keep your head where it is, too comfortable to move, even if it means showing that to someone you don’t know. She sets all of the items on the table, pouring out tea for the both of you. “Enjoy,” she says with a smile as she walks away.

The two of you sip your tea, a sweet floral blend that you can’t quite name, but you suppose that doesn’t matter too much. Azriel feeds you bites of cake and the cookie slowly, taking his own every now and then.

You nearly fall asleep on him once the desserts are finished, so content in this moment you don’t want to move.

“Alright, princess, let’s get home for a little bit before dinner.” You groan, pushing further into his shoulder. “We can snuggle when we get home, princess.” That gets you to move, the thought of being snuggled together under your new blanket on the couch at home. You turn to look at Azriel, who has a fond look on his face.

“What?”

“You’re so cute, love.” He kisses you, then stands up and grabs your coat off the back of your chair. Your face scrunches as you stand, not wanting to leave the warmth of the fireplace behind either, but you let Azriel redress you in your winter clothes, smiling when he kisses you again. He picks up your shopping bags, the guides you out of the tea room, thanking the fae before closing the door.

The two of you make your way back home slowly, the snow even thicker on the ground now that you had spent another hour indoors.

Near your home, along the Sidra, you spot an untouched patch of snow, and pause in your tracks.

“What is it, love?” Azriel asks you, stopping and looking at you, then glancing to where your eyes were locked on to. “Oh, did you want to make a snow Illyrian, princess?”

You bite your lip, then nod your head. Azriel merely secures your hat further down your head, and checks to make sure that your mittens are still covering your hands. “Go for it. By tomorrow, all of the snow will have been trampled, sweetheart.”

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about what other would think of you being so childish-

No. You were going with your instincts today. Besides, hardly anyone was out no about today, and there was no one on this side of the Sidra to stare at you. And Azriel was here, he would keep you safe. So you got down on the ground, repeatedly moving your arms and legs in their full range of motion.

You had always wanted to do this as a child, but even on the times you were let out of the mountain during the winter, you had been kept on a tight leash.

But now, with your mate? You were free to do whatever you wanted, as he had proved time and again throughout your relationship, and so many times today alone.

You stop once you feel you’ve made enough of an impression on the snow, and Azriel reaches a hand down to pull you up. You take it, then step back into what you believe to be the road and glance back at your creation.

It’s cute, though it looks nothing like Illyrian wings, but you suppose that doesn’t matter much.

“So cute Y/N. But let’s go now, I don’t want my sweet little mate to catch a cold.”

The two of you make your way back to your front door, and Azriel unlocks it before ushering you inside.

He strips you of your outerwear before taking his off, and you beeline for the couch in the living room, where your new blanket and pillow are already waiting for you.

“Before we snuggle, princess, you should change out of your dress,” Azriel suggests, and you groan in protest.

“But I want to snuggle right now,” you say impatiently.

“I know, love, but it will only take a moment to change you into something different sot that your dress doesn’t get too wrinkled before dinner.”

You sigh then follow him into the bedroom. He deposits the shopping bags onto the bed, pulling something out of the bag from the clothing store, one that you didn’t recognize.

It was a sleepwear set, a tank top with a bow resting in the middle of the neckline, a pair of shorts, and a set of knee high socks, all in a pale blue.

“When did you pick that out?”

“While you were trying on all of those clothes. I thought I would pick out some to give you as a surprise princess, after all, it is your birthday.”

You approach the bed and peek into the bag, and see that it is mostly full, pastel sets of underthings on every shade of the rainbow.

“Do you want to wear one of the sets now?”

You pull one out, a bralette and pair of panties in a pastel pink. “This one,” you say, presenting it to him.

He sets the clothes down on the bed, then strips you of the clothes you’re wearing. You let him redress you in the new clothes, loving how soft all of the fabrics are, Azriel having shopped for your comfort as well as a softer look than your usual attire.

“You look so adorable in those, baby,” Azriel says, his voice soft and sweet as he puts the socks on you, then your slippers.

“Thank you, Azzie. I really like these, they’re so cozy,” you say, running your hands along the tank top. “Can we cuddle now?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I do have a couple of reports I need to write first, it shouldn’t take more than an hour, but I’ll have you rest your head in my lap, if you would like.”

Your lip slides into a pout, you wanted to cuddle with him now.

“I know, sweetheart, but I’ll be quick about it, okay? And you can hug one of your new plushies while you wait for me to finish.”

“Fine…” you agree, fishing the plush that resembles Azriel out of the bag and clutch it to your chest while you follow Azriel back into the living room.

He sits down on the couch, patting his lap in invitation. You follow him, curling up on the couch and resting your head on his lap, sighing when he settles the soft, blush pink blanket over your body.

Papers rustle as Azriel’s shadows bring him what he needs to complete his work, but your eyes are already closed. One of Az’s hands begins to card through your hair slowly, and you let out a quiet purr at the sensation.

Within a few minutes, you had drifted off to Azriel’s soft touches, quiet breathing, and the gentle scratch of a quill on paper.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

You were woken by Azriel shifting beneath you, attempting to move to lay down underneath you without waking you. You open your eyes, turning your head to look at him.

“Hello, beautiful. I’m all done with my reports, now it’s time for us to snuggle together,” He says gently, moving your body so he’s now laying on his back, you pulled over him, your head resting on his chest. You kick your legs against the edge of the blanket, managing to get it over Azriel’s feet with a bit of work. You let out a deep breath once you have, sinking down into Azriel’s warm body.

You fall asleep again in a few minutes, now soothed by the sound of his heartbeat steadily thumping in your ear.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Part 2

The tall red haired male walked out of Uncle Rhysie’s office and in a quiet voice threatened him, “If the Shadowsinger or his daughter are made aware, I have every right to retaliate accordingly.”

The two males strode down the corridor too quickly to notice the tiny, sneaky feet taking off down toward the opposite end - back toward the crowd.

“Daddy!” Azalea yelled breaking Azriel out of his brooding long enough to swoop his youngest daughter off her feet. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“That guy that was with sissy! He threatened Uncle Rhys!”

“Where is he baby? Do you know?” Pointing her little index finger she gasped, still catching her breath from running down the long corridors, “down that hallway!”

Azriel’s shadows immediately shot out down the hallway breaking off from eachother to search down any corridors they may have gone down after leaving the study, finding Rhys in under a minute. Azriel appeared at his side only a moment later. “Where is he?” the spymaster growled. “I’m going to kill him.”

Rhys put a hand on his brothers shoulder. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“This isn’t time for your diplomatic bullshit, Rhys.” Azriel’s voice a low, dangerous tone. “He’s assaulted my daughter and threatened my High Lord. I have every right to retaliate accordingly.”

Rhys only shook his head, unphased by his brother’s rage. “No, Azriel. I know it’s a less than desirable situation, as a father, your brother, and Y/N’s uncle, I understand your rage. Especially given the unsavory history between Eris and our family.” The High Lord shrugged, loosing a breath and shaking his head. A rare break in his unruffled stature, a drop of his guard that only those closest to him would ever see. “But - your daughter is a consenting adult and a willing participant in this…dynamic between the two.”

Azriel started but couldn’t form words before he continued. “I’m not sure why Azalea thought Eris threatened me but I assume she overheard the words between Eris and I once we stepped past the wards on the study where we discussed the terms of a bargain.”

“What. Bargain?” Azriel ground out.

“The details of the bargain are between Eris and I but I assure you that your daughter has not been assaulted and I am not in any danger.”

Azriel gaped, quickly regaining his composure before rebutting. “How are you so sure? He’s a snake, Rhys. His word means nothing. His sense of loyalty only lay in self-preservation. He’d tell you anything to save his ass.”

“Eris,” His brother replied - taking on the grating tone of a High Lord. The tone that only came out when he was about to pull rank. “Has been a valuable ally in recent decades and has given us no reason to distrust him during that time. I’m not about to put our court at the risk of conflict with the Autumn Court and severing all diplomatic ties over who he’s sleeping with, Y/N included.”

“So my daughter is just a pawn in your political game?”

The ground rumbled as the strike hit its mark. “I remind you that she is still my niece, my niece who I love dearly. You would be wise to remember that I am still your High Lord and to consider your next words carefully as it seems you are implying I’m not capable of making sound decisions for my court.”

“There is no question regarding your court decisions, Rhysand. But what about our family? She is my DAUGHTER and I will protect her by whatever means necessary. Once again, I ask, how do you know Eris is not just covering his ass?”

“I will speak no further on this other than telling you that Eris has repeatedly gained her verbal consent - I was allowed into his mind to hear it for myself.”

Azriel stilled. Words once again failing him. Rhys felt guilty for putting his brother through this. Truly, he understood his upset. Azriel’s daughters meant everything to him, the gods knew he and Elain had been through hel and back in bringing them into this world - praying to the mother and any other gods that would listen for the chance to be parents.

In Azriel’s eyes, Y/N would always be the little girl who used to sneak out of bed late at night, climbing into his lap and begging for him to sing to her and her own restless shadows. He cherished the countless nights she’d fall asleep on his lap while he went over reports in his study, humming tunes that his own mother sang to him during what little time they had together during his childhood.

Perhaps the instinct to protect his girls from the ugliness of the world he’d grown up in clouded his vision, perhaps he was being overprotective, but he couldn’t let it go. This was the male who left Morrigan behind to bleed and suffer alone after being discarded like waste by her hateful family.

Sure, Eris and Mor had worked things out after finally having a one-on-one conversation fifteen years ago. And sure, maybe the reasoning behind it was logical and his side made him less of a bastard than initially thought, but…. He was still the male who had been engaged to Mor five damned centuries ago, and now he’s sleeping with-

The thought made Azriel’s gut churn as he finally broke from his contemplative silence, voice cracking to the point that his brother truly pitied him and the situation at hand. “She’s only twenty-five years old, Rhys….”

Rhys sighed, his voice softening into a more empathetic tone. “I know, Az. But she’s older than Feyre or Elain were when we pursued them, the same age Nesta was when her and Cassian- What I mean is that they were all perfectly capable of making the choice for themselves. Do you think they regret it?”

The rhetorical question lingered in the air before Rhys continued. None of the Archeron’s regretted their decisions. Cauldron knows that Azriel still couldn’t fathom why Elain chose to love him through even the good times let alone the worst of them. Her patience a soothing balm to his melancholy. He’d never stop being grateful for Elain, his daughters, the joy they could spark within the darkened depths of his soul.

“You are a great father, Az.” Rhys spoke gently. “Some of the hardest moments of parenting involve letting go. Freeing our children to live and learn from their own decisions. We’ve always believed in giving a choice, haven’t we? Shouldn’t that extend to the ones the Mother herself blessed us with to guide and nurture? Y/N has flourished into a headstrong, brilliant, take-no-shit female. You can trust her to care for herself.”

Rhysand’s reasoning seemed to placate Azriel, if only momentarily, though the agitation of his shadows betrayed the neutral expression on his face. “I trust her, Rhys. It’s Eris that I cannot bring myself to trust. What happens when he breaks her heart?”

“You’ve got wings, brother. If he breaks her heart and everything comes crashing down, you’ll be there to catch her.”

Azriel let out a contemplative sigh.

“I’ll always catch her.”

His brother’s hand reached out, resting on his shoulder with a firm yet reassuring grip. The newly formed tattoo from his bargain peeking out from under his collar.

“So, you’re really not going to tell me about this bargain?”

Rhys gave a half smile, shaking his head. “Sorry, brother. Even the greatest spymaster in Prythian’s history won’t pry it from me.”

“We’ll see.” Azriel murmured, the tiniest bit of humor lacing his words. “Well, I better get back to Elain and Azalea. If Elain needed a drink after the incident on the balcony, she’ll certainly need one after leaving her alone to endure Azzy’s incessant questioning on ‘sissy and the fire guy’.”

“Future Spymaster” Rhys mused.

“Ugh.” Azriel groaned, roughly running a palm over his forehead, threading scarred fingers through his raven-black hair. “Don’t give her any ideas.”

————————

“Fuck! Eris! Right there. Please, oh gods - please!”

With legs thrown back and my calves on either side of my head, Eris was fucking relentless.

“I like seeing you this desperate.” he cooed, rutting into me with a particularly hard thrust.

He’d edged me for an hour - an hour that felt like eternity - the sweet promise of oblivion so close to my grasp just to be torn away over and over again.

“Eris, please.”

His lips pressed softly against my temple, a stark contrast to his rough, punishing thrusts. “I know, baby. I know.” His heated whisper caressing the shell of my ear, shooting chills through me.

“So proud of you. Taking me so- Fuck!” He ground out through gritted teeth. My inner walls tightening around him in warning of another impending climax - a desperate plea for release. “You’re so. fucking. tight.”

Tears streaked my eyes from pleasure and the desperation for release. His pace becoming staggered as he loosed his reign on the punishing rhythm he’d set. His groans a fucking melody to my ears, a symphony of worship dedicated solely to me and for only my ears.

His thumb found my clit, hitting that perfect rhythm he’d memorized so well. I’d fall over the edge in no time if he’d allow it. “Cum with me, pretty girl.”

My eyes rolled back into my head at the command.

Fucking finally.

A little added pressure from his thumb and a whispered praise later - I was an incoherent mess of moans beneath him. The sounds of my climax and his groans filled the room, his cock twitching in a battle of dominance against the clenching of my inner walls, his release filling me so completely that I never wanted emptied of him.

We laid in reverent silence with his head buried in the crook of my neck, our chests heaving in a come down of the euphoria that had just torn through us.

Eris finally broke the silence, amber eyes meeting mine. “You are- that was.. Fuck- incredible.”

A smile quirked the edges of my lips, “It was.”

I paused, taking in the gorgeous male above me before gripping his ass and digging my nails in.

“Never fucking edge me like that again.”

Eris only chuckled darkly in response.

—————————————-

Eris

An internal war raged within Eris. The gentle rise and fall of Y/N’s chest only interrupted by the occasional snore, which she insisted she NEVER does, clued him in to the fact that she was deeply asleep. Even her shadows had settled in without stirring.

When she’d first spent the night with him two years ago, she never slept like this. Her rest was light and fitful, shadows on alert.

Around a year in, her shadows began settling themselves in at night, and six months ago he heard the first little snore fall from her lips. He chuckled to himself before his heart filled with contentment at the fact that she felt safe enough in his arms to let her armor fall.

An intrinsic part of him wanted to remind her to always be on alert. For fucks sake, she was the beloved niece of a High Lord, the daughter of the infamous Spymaster of the Night Court, and a coveted Shadowsinger herself. Throwing Eris into the picture only complicated things for her more. If the wrong people laid their hands on her - fuck, he couldn’t even think of it without the heat beneath his skin turning boiling.

Yet - he knew she was capable, raised surrounded by warriors in every sense of the word, some of the most powerful beings in Prythian’s history, who knew damned well that there would always be a target on their back. He was well aware from his own upbringing to always keep his guard up and to never be quick to trust. Hell, his own father didn’t even love him.

Throw in the fact that she was raised by a loving family - the emphasis on protecting herself would have been immense, exhausting in its own right.

For now, he’d quietly revel in this gift of trust she’d subconsciously given him. The fire coursing through him now settling into that of contentment, radiating from him into her. She didn’t need another reminder of the dangers of her very existence. For now, he could give her the gift of comfort and peace in return for her trust.

She’d effectively ruined all other females for him, whether she knew it or not. Hell, there had been no other females in these two years. When she looked at him she saw him as Eris and not the High Lord of cunning whose mask he wore - just as he saw her as Y/N, not merely a descendant of a family with an infinite number of ways to kill him if he broke her heart. Not to mention the ways she could brutally end someone who hurt her if she so pleased.

No, in the confines of this room they were Eris and Y/N, and only that. He couldn’t help but press a kiss of adoration to her shoulder at the thought. The love coursing through him for the female in his arms a thing of secret, lovely beauty that he’d keep to himself for a while longer.

—————————-

Y/N

I’d managed to sneak home unnoticed the following night - thoroughly sated after Eris insisted he make up for each orgasm he’d denied me the previous evening. Fortunately, nobody noticed my arrival home yet, effectively avoiding any awkward conversation that I was not yet ready to face.

Of course, I should’ve known that someone would realize I’d made it home.

Quietly sneaking in my door Azalea came into my room.

“What are you doing up, Azzy?” I asked.

“I missed you sissy. Daddy said you were with Nyx.”

“I was, we went out with Adish and I stayed at his apartment afterward.”

She sniffed the air, crinkling her nose. “You don’t smell like you were with Nyx.”

“You sure put the nose in nose-y” I laughed.

“Daddy was mad last night. He doesn’t like the fire guy.”

Sighing at my little sister’s pertinence I replied, “I know Azzie. Father doesn’t like any males that I…” choosing my next words carefully to avoid any further damning questions, I continued. “…spend time with.”

“Did he…. Um, fuck you?”

“Azzy!!! You can’t ask people that and that’s not nice to say. How do you even know what that means?”

She looked down at her feet, brows furrowed.

“I overheard Mommy and Daddy talking late last night and dad said he wanted to kill Eris for fu- um, doing that to you.”

She paused. “What does that mean anyway?”

Good gods. My little sister. “Azalea, you’ve got to stop snooping on everyone.” I paused, once again choosing my words carefully. “It just means that we spend time together without being around other people.”

“Oh! Like Nyx and Tamlin’s daughter.”

I put my face in my hands. “I don’t even want to know how you know that - but please keep it to yourself. That’s nobody’s business but Nyx and Layla’s. Okay?”

Azalea paused, considering. “Fine…”

“Make a bargain with me that you won’t tell.”

“Daddy said we can’t make bargains anymore because the tattoos hurt.”

“Shit, fine. I forgot. Pinky promise then?”

Azalea smiled. “I pinky promise. Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

“Yeah, sissy. You can.”

We lay there in silence for a few minutes before Azalea said, “Did you know that the fire guy and Uncle Rhys made a bargain?”

“Eris, Azzie. His name is Eris. Yeah. I saw his tattoo. He said it was just about something political.” I stuck my tongue out for emphasis. “Boring High Lord stuff.”

“Is that why he told Uncle Rhys that if he told you or daddy that he would re-um, retaliate?”

My heart jolted at that. Anger rising in me to the point of nausea.

What. The. Fuck.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get some sleep.”

I did not sleep that night.

————————————————————————

A/n: Thank you to everyone who has been reading this series! I have been having fun with it and the comments you all leave have been very entertaining. This will not be the last part - I’m on the fence of how long I’d like for it to be. Do you all prefer longer or shorter series fics?

Also, I chose Elriel as the parents in this series because the Aunts and Uncles dynamic fit better with the storyline. Low key, I also wonder if Gwyn could be related to the Vanserras and that would be… awkward. I will not take a stance on Elriel vs. Gwynriel because both are lovely females deserving of happiness, whether that happiness lay with Azriel or not, I don’t care. I just want everyone to be happy, ok??? Don’t yell at me. Ok, love you all. Xoxo

The footsteps halted at his bedside, and a stifled giggle was promptly muffled by a blanket that was surely being pressed across the bedroom creeper’s lips. Azriel braced his abdominals for what he knew was to come, just as he knew his daughters’ knees were bending, readying herself to push off the ground as she fluttered her little wings and landed feet first on his stomach, her bottom following soon after.

Umph! He heard the little puff of her breath leave her as she landed on his stomach, shuffling to straddle his torso. She was still working on her crash landings, or rather, learning how to try to avoid them.

“Wake up daddy! I got you!” Rune squealed, her little fingers poked at his face, giggling as she did so. The sound of her tinkling laughter filled his heart with unbridled joy. He never thought he’d be the reason for a youngling’s happiness.

Azriel made a display of acting surprised, exclaiming theatrically “Rue! You got me good today, baby.”

Rune giggled and wrapped her little arms around his neck, stretching herself over her father’s chest, pulling her blanket up with her. A broad hand came up to rest on her back, stroking her long, unruly mane. So much like his own but softer, finer in the delicate way only a child’s hair can be. He breathed in her honey and morning dew scent.

“I’m a good sneaker, you know.”

Azriel smiled down at his four-year-old. Her little feet were planted either side of his waist as she rested her chin on a fist, her elbows digging into his chest.

Azriel arched an eyebrow, regarding his daughter. “A sneaker? Or a spy?”

“Oh, a spy!” she corrected.  “I’m gonna be Spymaster for Nyxie when we’re all grown up. Just like you and Uncle Rhysie.”

Azriel chuckled, “Oh really?”

She nodded matter of factly. “Ahuh! I’m good at finding secrets.”

He snorted, knowing very well how much of a snoop Rune was. He barely had a spare second with her mother alone.

“I know you are. But you see, what you also must understand is that you have to be good at keeping secrets, too.”

Azriel gave her a smirk as he bopped her on the nose pointedly. It was only just last week that Rune had announced to his brothers at family dinner that mama and daddy were doing yoga in bed again when Rhys had been ribbing Azriel about missing morning training sessions for three consecutive days. Cassian had looked like he was about to combust from laughter.

“I can keep ‘em!” Her bright eyes gazed back into his, the perfect portrait of righteous indignation painted across her features. She looked so much like him, big hazel eyes, raven black hair and golden-brown skin, thankfully still smooth and mostly unblemished. The only thing marring her perfect skin were the regular knicks and grazes a happy child would encounter. But her temperament, her way with people and her kindness, that was all her mother.

“Oh really? Didn’t you tell me just yesterday at bedtime that Benedict has been sneaking mama’s cookies from the kitchen?”

Rune blushed, fiddling with her blanket between her hands, her mind working to form a rebuttal to her father’s accusation.

“Yeah but… I’m just being a good spy for you daddy! You still the master now, so I tell you all the secrets. But when I’m the master, you gotta tell me when Beny steals the cookies!”

“Well in that case I guess you were just being a loyal subject then, is that right? It had nothing to do with tattling on your brother.”

“Yep! Mama said that the master is nothing without the network, daddy.” She waved her arms about as she spoke and that combined with the stern look on her little face had Azriel grimacing to contain his amusement.

“That’s very true, Rue. Mama is very smart; the Master is nothing without his network. That is why you have to all work together to protect the ones you love and the ones that trust you to protect them.”

Rune nodded solemnly; glimpses of such wisdom shown beyond her years already.

“Is that why you’re Spymaster daddy? So you can protect mama and Beny and me?”

Azriel smiled at his daughter. A whisper of sadness at the edge of his mind as he thought about the solitary reason he had been employed as Spymaster by Rhys’ cruel father centuries ago.

Shadowsinger.

So rare, so coveted.

It was no secret that his shadows could infiltrate almost any court, any kingdom. The edge his affinity over the shadows provided him, and therefore the court that he served.

Rune had always been fascinated with his vein of work. Enamoured with everything investigative and the gathering of intelligence. He wouldn’t tell his daughter today the full scope of what being Spymaster meant. He wouldn’t tell her that the pools of their enemies’ blood stained into the skin of his hands are never fully washed away. He wouldn’t expose her yet to the methods employed to gain access to vital information required to protect his family, his court and its citizens. He wouldn’t yet share with her the mental and physical lengths it takes to reel yourself back from the pit of wickedness you slip into in order to protect the fragile walls of your mind, so you do not lose yourself to the infinite realm of darkness and despair as you spiral.

No, he wouldn’t share all that with her today.

How the feared Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court had found himself with the most beautiful female he had ever known remained a mystery even to himself. Of all his proficiency in uncovering the truth, he still had no idea how a female as kind and warm as her loved his jagged and twisted soul so fiercely. And to bestow him with two children that not only loved and worshipped him, seeing not fearsome warrior, but just saw…daddy. Saw their protector, their play mate, their teacher and friend.

“That’s right baby, I do it all to protect you and mama and Beny. And before I had all of you in my life I did it all for Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass.”

He wrapped a large hand around her head, threading his fingers gently in her soft hair and pulled her back onto his chest, pressing a kiss atop her head as she snuggled into his embrace. A small fist came to rub at her nose, her other hand still clutching her blanket.

“Mama is making pancakes,” she murmured into his chest, seemingly done with their previous conversation.

Azriel laughed. The attention spans of four-year-olds never failed to entertain him. This kid may have had his eyes and fierce loyalty, but she had Cassian’s appetite.

Rising swiftly out of bed, still clutching Rune in his arms, he exclaimed, “Well then, let’s go get pancakes!”

*******

@azrielshadowsingerweek

Oh, you were insatiable, sweetheart, your mate purrs in your mind. You can feel the smugness radiating off of him not only from the bond tethering you, but from where he stands, five feet away and shrouded in darkness. And I loved every moment of it. You did too, of course.

You shut your eyes for a long second so your oldest son doesn’t catch you rolling them. I would love for you to remind me of just how much I loved it, mate, you send back, letting your frustrated desperation cling to your words, if we can ever seem to find the time.

Last week, Zuzu refused to go to Feyre’s painting class even though all of the other cousins were going in for a private session the High Lady had set up specifically so that you and your mate could spend the night alone together. She spent the entire time latched to Azriel’s leg and crying her little eyes out until the both of you gave in and let your daughter stay home. Your only saving grace that night was getting to lounge on the couch with a good book—that really only made you hornier for your mate—whilst Azriel and Zuzu baked cookies in the kitchen and hand delivered them to you with a large glass of milk.

A few days ago, it was Baz who had trouble sleeping and came pounding at your door while your mate was three fingers deep into your sopping cunt. The both of you had hastily gotten dressed, grumbling the entire time you did so, and let your second oldest son into the room. Azriel swiftly avoided Baz’s questioning about why your door had been locked in the first place, and the both of you watched him crawl up onto your bed and settle in the center of the tangled sheets, looking at the both of you expectantly. Baz talked your ears off all night long. 

And it was only last night when Jax who couldn’t be consoled when he couldn’t find his stuffed Suriel for bedtime. Azriel spent an hour scouring your house for the toy while you held Jax close, trying to keep your own emotions calm and serene instead of the frustration you wanted to give into, lest your son pick up on them and dampen his mood further. Even with his keen spymaster abilities and the shadows he’d released to help the cause, Azriel came up empty.

With four young children and twins on the way, it seemed as though they always knew the perfect time to interrupt you and your mate every time you tried to get close to each other. 

Wren frowns, his head falling back on his shoulders as he stares up at you with those hazel eyes that are a gift from his father. They’re pleading, and he really wants to have that sleepover with Gideon and Nyx, but you’ve never been a sucker for those pleading looks. If Wren thinks that huffing and puffing and making sad faces is going to change your mind, he came to the wrong parent.

Especially since he’s interrupted your fun as well.

You tap your foot, waiting your son out. He stares, and you stare back. You even cross your arms over your chest, resting them over the swollenness of your stomach, nearly two-thirds of the way through your pregnancy.

Your body goes taut at the feeling that Azriel lets zip down the bond. It’s one of complete arousal, his obsession with you when you make that stern face. 

It takes all of your willpower not to shift on your feet with the rush of wetness that accompanies the feeling of heat rushing through your veins. Not to clench your thighs together or glance over to where your mate stands, probably staring at you with his hazel eyes, filled with need.

Not that you’d be able to see him in the darkness anyway.

Wren’s pleading draws your attention away from your desires and back to the matter at hand.

“Please, mom!”

Clearing your throat so that it doesn’t falter when you speak, you answer. “You may have a sleepover with Nyx and Gideon tomorrow night if you're a good boy tonight. And that means playing with your siblings for a few minutes until I come to take Jax and Zuz for their baths.”

You’re pretty sure you lost your eldest son when you agreed to the sleepover, and you nearly stumble when he throws himself at you, hugging you tight. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Wren screeches with excitement, and your heart grows when he places a fleeting kiss to your stomach and bolts from the room. You can hear him tearing down the halls to where Baz is loudly making the toys in the living room speak. 

“Sweetheart, are you crying?” Azriel’s voice startles you. No longer is he hiding in the shadows, but at your side, swiping a calloused thumb across your cheek, swiping away the wetness.

“He’s just so sweet,” you gush, leaning into your mate’s arms. You press your ear to his chest, listening to the steady and strong thumping of his heart. You love this man and everything that you’ve built together. Through all of the missions and worrying, to building a home and family together, you truly are grateful for the life that you live.

“You know what else is sweet?” Azriel says, his suggestive whisper caressing the shell of your ear. It causes you to shiver, fingers curling into his shirt as he pulls you closer, lifting you easily into his arms.

“What?” you answer breathlessly, already losing yourself to your mate’s touch again. Namely, his thick cock brushing against your cunt with each step closer to the desk in the office he takes.

You don’t even have to worry about the kids right now. You can fall into the bliss you’ve been so desperately trying to find for the past week, because you noted how Azriel’s shadows trailed your son from the room, at least one always with every child at all times of the day.

“You.” His lips slant over yours, his tongue parting your lips with ease. You meet him halfway, licking, tasting your way as his hands hike up the skirts of your dress and pull your panties to the side as soon as your ass hits the edge of the wooden desk. “Tell me what you need, mate.”

There isn’t time for foreplay, for teasing nips of teeth against your hardened nipples. They’re rubbing against the fabric of your dress just fine. No time for orgasms by his hands, his tongue. You’d hardly be able to enjoy the view of Azriel on his knees for you with the size of your bump.

“Your cock,” you whimper, trying desperately to keep your voice low.

You shudder against the fingers he drags across your cunt, swiping through your slick. You’re ready, more than. You need him right this instant.

Azriel swallows the plea you’re about to release, enjoying the way you tug on his hair as a way to reprimand him. It has him grinning into the kiss, his fingers quickly fumbling with his belt because he’s just as desperate as you are, having not nearly been near you—or in you—enough in the past few weeks. 

Your pesky children are always interrupting.

“Your wish is my command,” he answers easily, and your back arches as he rubs the head of his cock across your sopping heat.

Azriel almost snarls with pleasure at the sight of your bump pressing sky-high. He leans in closer, loving the feeling of the three of you close. You’re so fucking beautiful, and there’s something special about how you look swollen with his child, something the both of you made.

He’s seen it four times over by now, and it never gets fucking old. He’ll keep you good and pregnant until you tell him you don’t want any more children.

And he loves the way you writhe against him, hook your legs around his waist, trying to force him closer, your cunt greedily trying to suck his cock deep into your womb. Loves the way your nails pinch into his shoulders, the way your teeth latch onto his lip to keep quiet when he pushes into you in one fell swoop. 

There’s a burst of blood on his tongue but Azriel loves it, quickly pulling out and pressing back in so that you’ll bite him again. When you come down from your high, you’ll apologize profusely, but he doesn’t care, likes a bit of pain with his pleasure. 

He’ll revel in the redness of your cheeks when your children ask him what happened to him later, though.

“Azriel,” you cry, clutching onto your mate for dear life. You love the feeling of his thick cock stretching you, the gushing between your legs when he so easily finds that spot that has you cumming within seconds like some whore. He knows that you need this release, that the both of you need to be quick and quiet with your fucking. Your children can only be occupied for so long.

“I’ll make sure Cassian or Rhys can take the children tomorrow,” Azriel promises against your mouth, smothering the sounds you make for him. He’s just as desperate to hear you scream, the reminder of it has heat pooling in his core, his pace quickening. “Then, you can scream as loud as you want, mate, all night long.”

A second orgasm washes over you like a wave. Azriel didn’t even have to stick his hands between the both of you, but he is now, wanting one more before he releases himself. It’s brewing quickly, and he circles his fingers over your clit, skilled and an expert at everything that has to do with you.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You beg, hips rolling to meet his. Azriel groans into your neck, sucking harshly and laving his tongue over the hurt.

“I’m going to cum,” he pants harshly, straightening to his full height to look down at you in all of your sexed-out glory. The way you can barely keep yourself braced against the desk, the way your mouth is parted in that perfect shape that almost makes him want to pull out and stick his cock down your throat instead. The way that your eyes are rolled so far into the back of your head that you can see the bond connecting the both of you, completely overcome with desire.

You keen your agreement, words jumbled as he takes you to your peak again, the both of you shuddering with pleasure as your orgasms overcome you. 

He rubs you through your pleasure, rocking his hips slowly as he empties himself deeply inside of you. If you weren’t  already pregnant, Azriel’s sure you would be now, with how much cum he’s pumping inside of you.

Your mate hugs you close, rubbing your back until you come down from your high. 

You lean back, blinking up at him blearily, and it makes Azriel want to take you all over again.

“Is that a promise, mate?” You ask, referring to him making sure that all of your children will be away at their aunts and uncles tomorrow night, leaving the both of you to yourselves. Well, plus the two in your uterus.

Azriel hums, finally pulling out of you. You gasp at the loss but his fingers are there, stuffing the leaking cum back into your cunt. You’re not sure your legs can support you right now, but they don’t need to, because you’re already rearing for another round. 

It’s the quietest you’ve seen her, most nervous too. She’d allowed you and your second youngest, Malos, into her room while she prepared for the date, even letting you help her choose the perfect outfit. You could tell that Malos would have rather been anywhere else, goading Baz into a sword fight or Wren into chess, but even she seemed to sense your eldest daughters’ nerves. Malos even attempted to offer advice, which was quickly waved away by Zuzu, claiming that she hadn’t needed any advice at all.

An outright lie, because she stopped you on your way out the door, bashfully asking how your first date with Azriel went, her cheeks red with embarrassment from thinking about the both of you like that.

“Don’t need to,” Azriel mutters and you shoot a hot thrash of annoyance through your mating bond, berating him for his ill-willed words. You watch your mate flinch in his seat, looking up at you with those innocent hazel eyes and the look makes you want to roll yours. It’s accompanied by a cool feeling of an apology, knowing that if he doesn’t cut it out, he’s going to be in the doghouse tonight. “Sorry, my love. I just don’t like the thought of Zuzu…” He trails off like he can barely manage the word at all.

“Dating?” You question, eyebrows raised. Azriel’s eyebrows pull tight into a scowl again, quickly smoothing into that neutral stoicism that any of your children can recreate at the drop of a pin. It’s made figuring out which of the six was responsible for each mess they managed to get themselves into, but as their mother, you can see right through those masks they wear. You are married to the spymaster of the Night Court, after all.

“Please, don’t remind me,” Azriel groans, and he sounds like he’s taken an ash arrow to the delicate skin of his wings, which flex behind him. Such babies, these Illyrian males are. It makes you wish you hadn’t mentioned it to him like Zuzu pleaded you not to. “I can’t fathom it. She’s not old enough.”

You wish you’d requested the presence of Feyre and Nesta.

“She is,” you insist, keeping your voice low so your daughter doesn’t hear. “Your attitude isn’t helping the situation either, Azriel. Zuzu’s already a mess of nerves. Do you think that if she overheard you loathing the male that she’s smitten over that wouldn’t affect her in any way?” Maybe he’s hoping that it does.

“You’re right, my love,” Azriel sighs. He stands from his chair, crossing the room to where you stand and pulling you into his arms. “I’m just worried, is all.”

“Well, worry quieter,” you answer, squeezing him just as tightly. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the unsteady beat of his heart, riddled with worry. He has nothing to fret over, he’s made sure that Zuzu is better trained than any Illyrian warrior. Plus, she’s not even going on a date with a camp-goer, but instead a male born and raised in the heart of Velaris, whom you’ve heard nothing but good about. You might have done a little digging of your own when your daughter told you of this date, asking around town about the boy. Azriel isn’t the only sneaky one in your family. “If I had known how much you’d be sulking once I got to know you, I wouldn’t have—”

“Good evening, shadowsingers,” An all too familiar voice drawls. You jump in surprise, fingers tightening in the back of your mate’s shirt. They clench for an entirely different reason when you turn, seeing not only the High Lord of the Night Court standing in your kitchen, but with the army of his family and the Lord of Bloodshed’s as well. “Are we too late?”

“Just on time,” Azriel responds, trying to keep his mask of cool in place when you pinch him with a knowing look. One night on the couch wouldn’t hurt, he supposes.

On a brush of night-chilled wind, the rest of your children appear, the shadows swirling around the twins’ feet noting them of their extended family’s arrival.

You don’t miss the look of yearning Asteria gives an unknowing Wren.

You can’t wait to see how Azriel and Rhysand will react to that.

“What are you doing here?” Malos asks, snagging a pear from the bowl in the center of the island. She hops up onto the stone and unsheathes her knife, similar to Azriel’s beloved Truth-Teller, taking the blade to the fruit and eating the slice straight from the weapon.

You grimace, not wanting to know the places that blade has been.

“We’re seeing your sister off, of course,” Cassian scoffs, “Not that it’s any of your business, little miss.” He teases, snagging the next slice of fruit from the tip of her blade with the ease of a warrior well-honed for centuries. Had he been a lesser general, the knife would’ve gone straight through his hand.

You don’t even have it in you to scold your daughter.

“It’s entirely my business,” Malos retorts with a glare. You know that look she wears, and before you can scold her, she’s commanding her shadows away from Knox and tripping her uncle on his way around the corner of the counter. Cassian isn’t quick enough to see it coming, smug in thinking that he’s had the last laugh, but Malos is never one to give up.

He crashes down with a yowl to rival a Helcat’s, and it isn’t long before Zuzu is bursting into the packed kitchen, her mouth agape, her hazel eyes furious.

“What is going on in here?” She screeches, scowling at everyone except for Asteria who immediately glues herself to Zuzu’s side in a reassuring hug. Your daughters face softens slightly as she embraces her best friend, but her face returns to that rivaling your own when you’re scolding your children when she turns back to the rest of the family. “What on the continent are you all doing here?”

She looks to you, helpless and embarrassed, and the only thing that you can offer her in return is a sympathetic, sad smile.

 In a family this large and tight knit, it’s inevitable that they’d pry.

“I think the real question is why are you wearing that of all things?” Baz teases, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter, looking like he’d rather be out on the town himself.

Normally, your children would go bat for bat with each other, but Zuzu must be more nervous than she’s trying to let on because her cheeks go crimson and she fists the long skirt in her hands, her eyes frantic. “What’s wrong with it? Is it too much?”

Her wings jostle at her back as if they’re begging to be shook, to expel the pent-up energy.

“Basil, go to your room,” you scold, ignoring your second eldest son’s groan of pain when Wren smacks him upside the head. You’re moving across the room toward your daughter, and you don’t like it either, the feeling of every single family members eyes on you as you place your arm on her shoulder in a consoling manner. “Zuz, come with me, baby.”

You guide her back into the front room where she was peering out the curtains in excitement only moments ago. Now, her shoulders are deflated, and her chin is downturned to the floor, hiding her sad eyes behind the draping black hair that reaches her waist.

It’s not a look you’ve seen often on your eldest daughter. She’s confident to a fault, but right now, she looks like she might just crumble.

“Don’t listen to your brother,” you say, sitting her on the plush loveseat and taking the spot next to her. You hold her hand in your own and when she refuses to look your way, you tip her chin up, forcing her eyes to yours. “He’s just jealous because he doesn’t have a date tonight and is stuck here, hanging out with your father and I.” It garners a short puff of laughter from your daughter. “You look beautiful, Zuz.”

“You really think so?” She asks, and you can see the lingering worry lining her iris’.

“Picked it out myself, didn’t I?” You ask incredulously, and thankfully, Zuzu cracks a smile.

“Mom,” Zuz whines playfully, cheeks tinging pink. Then softer, “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Zuz. I’m sorry about everyone showing up unannounced but I can promise you that your father will be hearing about it,” you say, emphasizing your words with a flare down the bond and a glare at the shadows creeping in the corners of the room. They disperse quickly at your words. “All you need to do is go have fun.”

Zuzu’s grin is beaming, her hazel eyes shining with delight. “I really like him, mom.”

“I know you do, sweetie,” you match her smile, patting her gently on the hand. She launches herself into your arms, squeezing you tightly.

A knock on the door startles the both of you away from each other and when your daughter pulls back you catch the quick glimpse of her nerves again before she’s taking a calming breath her aunt taught her and collects herself, looking like the prideful daughter you know her as.

“You better go answer the door,” you muse, “Before your father or one of your uncles gets to it first.”

She curses, springing from the couch and is gone in a rush of wind, calling out to the house as she rips the door open, “Wish me luck! Love you all even though half of you shouldn’t be here!”

Before anyone can respond to Zuzu’s goodbye, she’s out the door. And just like that, she’s on her first date.

Azriel slinks into the room, collapsing on the couch beside you. He knows that he has some groveling to do, if your glare is any sign, but right now he just wants to wallow. This is much harder than it was when Baz went on his first date. And second. And eighth.

“I still don’t like this,” he mutters, peeking out from behind the curtain and watching your daughter walk down the street with her date. “I should send some shadows with her.”

Curious, you peek out the window, too. Indeed, Wren and Baz have built a fortress in the snow to protect themselves from the onslaught of snowballs being thrown their way. Gideon and Nyx have joined forces against the two brothers, the latter packing the fluffy snow into tight, white balls, while Gideon launches their ammo towards your sons.

Your eldest daughter, Zuzu, and Nyx’s younger sister, Asteria, had joined the competition early on. They’d been a formidable team too, but grew bored of their brothers and cousin who were taking the snowball fight a little too seriously. Now, they are in the snow with little Castor, who had cried until she’d been let outside by her protective father, bundled up in so many clothes her wings nearly disappeared into the fabric. The girls are making snow angels, though Castor’s looks very much like a circle on the lawn.

Dark streaks dart behind the wall your sons have built and you frown, watching as Baz’s shadows help roll clumps of snow closer, creating perfectly circular snowballs. From what you’d heard from your husband’s friends, using shadows was against any and all snowball fight rules.

You cut Azriel a glance but he’s conveniently occupied, watching the game outside.

“Well, at least they’re both on the same team,” you comment to your mate, who refuses to let his gaze stray from the little boys. Good, he can watch them while he does the dishes then, since there’s a window above the sink. You pat him on the ass, nodding towards the mess of dishes in the sink. He nods in response, loping quickly over to peer out the window again. “So they’ll either both lose or both win.”

“They’ll both win,” Az responds immediately, a quick but pointed look your way. “They do take after me.”

Cassian scoffs behind you and you turn to see a scowling Nesta shooting him a look as he tries to steal a cookie. Jax giggles in her lap at his uncle's antics, but when Cassian hands him part of the cookie and its head falls off, Jax’s smile wobbles. He’s not outside due to the nature of his powers. As an empath, sensing the competitive nature of his siblings and the sting of a snowball to the face, it had been in his best interest to be inside around the luscious scents of cookies and warmth, instead of out in the bitter snow.

Nesta coos, bouncing him, and Cassian is thankful for the distraction, slipping further down the counter to where the High Lord sits, trying—and failing—to gain his mate's attention. The commander slips an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and glares at the back of Azriel’s head, continuing his complaining. “The only reason you’ve won so many is because of those damn shadows, Az.”

Azriel throws over his shoulder, wincing as Baz takes a snowball to the face, his face going red with fury. “How was I supposed to know they were unaffected by the magic restrictions?” he claims, sending said shadows out into the yard once he sees Baz’s slipping through the snow, headed for the icicles hanging off the railings of the porch. His intercept his sons in a display of authority, spearing them into blackened mist. Baz glances up to the window, locking eyes with his father, who wears a look of warning on his face, brow raised. Azriel watches his son visibly huff and take his anger out on the snow, building a ball and launching it across the playing field in frustration.

His gaze cuts across the yard, narrowing his eyes. Gideon and Nyx are crouched low behind their own pile of snow, looking like they’re scheming. He wants to trail his shadows in their direction, listen in on their conversation, but he’s alerted to Malos’ whines from the other room. If one of his youngest is awake, they either both are, or will be soon.

“Malos is up,” Az tells you softly, shutting off the water to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and kisses you gently on the cheek. You’re mixing color into icing for the cookies, getting ready for when it’s too dark out for the children to play. They’ll get all cleaned up and have some hot chocolate to warm their bellies, and you, Feyre, and Nesta have baked cookies for all of the children to decorate. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ll join,” Cassian answers, stealing another cookie off of a platter. He dunks it into your icing to the neck, the cookie dripping with sugary goodness as he lifts it to his mouth, shoving it inside. He ducks under your glare. “Gotta go get my baby.”

Cassian and Nesta’s youngest daughter, Sif, had been put down for a nap with both Knox and Malos. She’s still a little too young to be outside without supervision, and the eldest children of the Inner Circle demanded time outside without their parents, probably because they knew their fathers would try and take over their snowball fight had they been outside. They didn’t want any tips or tricks, not even your children, even with Azriel’s hundred of wins beneath his belt.

Jax climbs from Nesta’s lap over Rhys who lets out a harsh exhale when his knee lands a little too close to his private area, and then over to Feyre, who finally sets her cookie down to scoop your middle son in her arms.

“Pretty,” Jax comments, pointing at her decorative cookie. It looks just like her, and there’s one next to it that looks a little like Rhysand. Purple dots for eyes stare up at him. “Uncle Rhysie?”

“Good job, Jax,” Feyre coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks. They pink with a blush and he settles into her arms, looking utterly at bliss. He revels in the warmth of her emotions, the pride surging through her. It feels like warm bubbles in his chest, and he noses at her collar.

“Look who’s ready to party,” Azriel announces, entering the room, arms full with your two youngest children, Malos and Knox. Knox still looks a little sleepy, head resting against Azriel’s shoulder, cuddling into his warmth. His tiny wings are droopy with sleep, and his twin sister, Malos, is already reaching for the cookies. 

Nesta is quick to scoop her away from Azriel. She claims not to have a favorite niece, but Malos and her have an understanding. You see more of Nesta in Malos’ personality than any of the children of the Inner Circle, and you’re extremely happy that they have such a close connection. 

“Hi baby,” you greet Knox, who is signing mommy to you. You ease him out of Azriel’s arms, who promptly returns to his position in front of the window, pressing exaggerated kisses to his chubby cheeks. It makes him smile wide, flaring those wings that he hasn’t quite figured out how to control. “Are you ready for some yummy cookies?”

His dark eyes light with excitement. Of course your children are ready for sweets, they always are. They picked that up from Azriel, who has the biggest sweet tooth you’ve ever seen.

Cassian reenters the room with his daughter in his arms and Rhys pouts. Almost everyone in the room is preoccupied with a child in their arms, except for him. Maybe he can convince Feyre to have one more. The youngest children in the family are two now and he misses having a tiny babe around.

By the heated look in her eyes, his mate seems to be considering the same, sneaking past those shadowy walls in his mind to catch a glimpse of his thoughts. The High Lord smirks. He sends her over some imagery to go with his thoughts, and her cheeks go red. That hot look turns into one of warning, and she’s speaking out loud now, “Why don’t you call the children inside so they can get warmed up and decorate some cookies?”

“Of course, darling,” Rhys sweeps from his seat in a wisp of darkness. 

Breaking a cookie in half, you give part of it to Knox, who signs thank you, munching on the sweet. The other half is passed to Malos as you head towards where your mate is finishing up the dishes, leaning against him for a moment, reveling in all of your family happily together.

“I love you,” Azriel murmurs into your hair, leaning over to sneak a bite of Knox’s cookie. Your son stares up at his father with wide eyes, and like this, he looks just like Az. It makes your heart warm, and Jax squeals in happiness in response, your happiness radiating to him. It makes your grin wider, peeking over your shoulder to see him so content in his aunt's arms. 

“I love you too, Az,” you whisper back to him, resting your forehead against his. 

It’s a nice moment, until the children from outside are wrangled through the door by Rhys. The boys are arguing about who has won their snowball fight, while the girls are peeling away their winter gear, excited to decorate cookies with icing and sprinkles and the edible petals Elain had given you before her trip to the Summer Court with Lucien. 

“Now, now, boys,” Rhys starts, but the diplomatic tone he’s using does nothing to deter the cousins from arguing. “I’m sure we can come to a consensus without yelling and acquiescing.”

“But Baz used his shadows,” Nyx complains, wringing his gloves between his hands in frustration. “We all saw it.”

“Nyxie, don’t be mean to Baz,” Wren counters, brows furrowed. He doesn’t like it when his family argues, especially over trivial things. His heart is so kind. “You can win the snowball fight if you want, but Baz and I are gonna win the cookie decorating contest, right Bazzy?”

“No,” Baz says flatly, dropping his gear onto the floor. You give him a look but he almost seems un-bothered by it, done with the debate his cousins are currently having. “We won the snowball fight and we’re going to win the cookie decorating contest.” 

You share a look with your mate, watching the scene unfold. Baz is quite the Stubborn Suriel, no matter what it comes to.

“Dad,” Nyx groans, “Can’t you do something?”

Cassian is the one who comes to the rescue, Castor reaching up at him for her sister. He helps the little one down and the older one with her undressing, peeling her thermals off layer by layer. “It’s not about who won, right boys? It’s about spending time and having fun with the ones you love.”

Feyre, Nesta, and yourself awe at his words, but Azriel and Rhysand are rolling their eyes and muttering under their breath at Cassian’s cheesy words. 

“What a kiss ass.”

“Smug fucker.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, turning your body away from him, like that will hide Knox from his vulgar words. “Language.” 

He winces, “Sorry love.”