#ialtpwf

Your stomach dropped as you saw the fury on Rhys, Amren, and Cassian’s faces. They must have come in sooner than expected, catching the tail end of the wedding ceremony.

Which is exactly what you didn’t want.

Luckily, Eris and Nesta had not noticed yet. The Night Court did not take their seats by the other High Lords, instead choosing to stand in the back of the room. So you turned back to your husband and wife, relishing in their smiles as the cheers began to die down. A simple raise of a hand from Gwyn was all it took for the crowd to seat themselves again and go quiet.

“There is one more ceremony to perform,” Gwyn said, her bright eyes shining with glee. “Lady Nesta, Lady (Y/N), please step forth.”

Eris took a step back, pride gleaming on his sharp face as you and Nesta took a step towards the crowd. The orchestra began to play again. Two guards stepped forward, and with delight you recognized Saeros and Ivar. They bowed their heads and bent a knee, each presenting a pillow with a beautiful circlet atop the purple fabric. It was golden with a white jewel in the centre, branches with jewelled green leaves, red and brown flowers, and white jewels scattered throughout. Queenly crowns of pure autumn, handmade for you and Nesta by Eris’s finest craftsmen. Excitement rippled through you at the sight of such delicate items of power. 

“Do you, (Y/N) Vanserra, swear to protect the citizens of the court? To uphold justice and protect the peace? To care for the sick and healthy, the old and the young, the weak and the strong alike?”

“I do.” Your words rang with a conviction that surprised you. 

Gwyn turned towards Nesta. “And do you, Nesta Vanserra, swear to protect the citizens of the court? To uphold justice and protect the peace? To care for the sick and healthy, the old and the young, the weak and the strong alike?”

“I do.” Nesta replied.

Saeros stepped toward her, and Ivar to you. You bowed your head as the guard placed the circlet on your head with grace. At first, when planning the ceremony you thought it would be Eris who crowned you, as Rhys had with Feyre apparently. “I could easily do that, but it would be better for two of the people to crown you both,” he had explained. “Rhys granting his lovely Feyre the title in private was a poor choice, as it makes it seem like she is only the High Lady because he made it so. By having Saeros and Ivar crown you, and a priestess do the ceremony, the people will be more trusting when they see someone more like them granting you your power. Not me.”

When you raised your head, beams of sunlight reflected off the jewels of the crown. It cast across the crowd with a blinding shimmer. Ivar rose to his feet, unhooking the sword from his armour and presenting it to you. The blade was long and silver, a gleaming ruby in the handle amidst the intricate metalwork. It had a glow to it, as if singing its own type of power.

As practised, you took the sword and rested the tip on the floor, holding the handle in front of you with your hands clasped firmly around it. Nesta did the same. 

“With the blessing of the Mother,” Gwyn continued. “I, Gwyneth Berdara, now proclaim Nesta Vanserra and (Y/N) Vanserra, High Ladies of the Autumn Court. Long may they reign.”

The crowd echoed back. “Long may they reign.”

As the music began again and the cheers continued, you reached out and grabbed Nesta’s hand. She turned towards you, and your breath hitched at the sight of your wife in the crown. With a smirk, she nodded, and in a uniform motion the two of you hoisted your swords in the air proudly, right as Zorzimril and Athariel let out mighty roars. 

The cheers increased tenfold, and your chest swelled with pride. These were your people now, the people who would come to you with their problems for help. The people you would protect, whose lives you would change and bring them out from the lingering shadows of Beron. 

Eventually, Eris stepped forth once again and you and Nesta returned the swords to their positions as the various members of the other courts made their way to line up in the aisle to bend the knee. One by one, they knelt and gave the standard speech, swearing respect and acknowledging the official new High Lord and High Ladies. You couldn’t help but smile as Tamlin came forth, his blonde hair much better kept than last time you had seen him. He offered you a proud smile, bowing deeply to you, Nesta, and Eris.

Finally, the dreaded moment arrived. Rhys stepped forward, clad in a simple black tunic. His violet eyes were simmering with fury at the three of you. Amren stood beside him, disgust written plainly across her sneering face. You felt Nesta go utterly still as Cassian approached behind Rhys and Amren, his expression a mix of devastation and anger. His wings were tense, and Azriel was beside him, perhaps ready to spring into action and hold the general back. You saw Nesta’s eyes flick to Elain, who practically hid behind Azriel. She donned a black dress that seemed to suck the life from her. Her doe eyes were wide, avoiding Lucien who was sitting a few feet away from her. She also avoided eye contact with Nesta, choosing to stare at the floor in front of her instead.

For a moment, Rhys stared down the three of you and you wondered if he would even bend the knee. After a few heartbeats of tense silence, the High Lord of the Night Court took a knee with the others following suit. “I, Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court,” He said through gritted teeth as if the words were being dragged out of him like blood from a knife. “Acknowledge Eris Vanserra as High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Another heartbeat went by, and the words all the other High Lords had said did not come. A few of the guards shifted, and Eris spoke up icily. “Go on.”

With a sigh, Rhys’s jaw tensed but he continued nonetheless. “I acknowledge Nesta Vanserra, and (Y/N) Vanserra, as High Ladies of the Autumn Court. May their reign be long and prosperous. My court stands behind you and wishes you many blessings.”

You didn’t bother hiding the smugness on your face as he rose, turning his violet eyes towards you. You did not flinch as they tried to stare you down menacingly. This was your court. Your home. And you would not be afraid.

Finally, Rhys turned on his heel to leave, Amren and Elain scurrying after him. But Cassian remained frozen, his eyes locked on Nesta. She remained expressionless, a cool mask of boredom on her face as he looked at her pathetically. 

“Nesta…” The general whispered, taking a step forward. Instantly, the guards at the bottom of the dias stepped forward into a line, their hands going to the swords on their hips. The dragons also growled menacingly, creeping further forward into the throne room.

“Cassian.” Azriel put a hand on the general’s shoulder, his voice low and firm. The room was utterly quiet, the only noises being the growling of the dragons. After a moment, Cassian finally let himself get led out by Azriel, but not without one last longing look at Nesta. You let out a sigh of relief, but Nesta’s jaw was clenched with anger. You could feel her frustration seeping through the bond. It was Nesta’s coronation, and Cassian managed to make their interaction all about him. 

When the Night Court finally left, the room seemed to relax. “All hail the High Lord and Ladies!” Came Lucien’s cry, and the crowd went back to happy cheering. You shot him a grateful glance, hoping that was the last you’d see of the Inner Circle. As the nature of the music grew more lively, Eris took you and Nesta by the arm and the three of you headed to the banquet tables.

 *********************

Hours had passed and the celebration showed no signs of slowing down. Your stomach was full of the most delicious food you had tasted, rich wine flowing through your system and making you feel lighter. You sat with Eris and Nesta as dinner was served, taking the time to converse with your new husband and wife before after the meal where attendees were free to come up and pay their respects. At the table next to you, Lirilla, Lucien, and Helion’s party sat chatting amongst themselves. It warmed your heart to see Lirilla speaking so freely to the man she loved after all this time.

Almost immediately upon taking your seat at the elaborately decorated royal table, a familiar pair of wings peeked through the crowd and bounded over towards you. Nesta had nearly wept as Emerie bounded across the room and into her outstretched arms. She wore a midnight blue sparkling dress with no sleeves, and that white Valkyrie ribbon braided into her hair.

“Hey, High Ladies!” The Illyrian female had cheered as she hugged each of you.

“You came!” Nesta had exclaimed, blinking away happy tears.

Emerie snorted in response. “Of course I did. How could I possibly miss the wedding and coronation of two of my best friends? Besides, the look on your face when you realised Gwyn was the priestess was worth it in and of itself.”

You had baulked. “You knew?”

A mischievous glint shone in her brown eyes. Not even the bright flickering lights from the candles could outshine it as Emerie smirked. “Of course I knew. Eris swore Gwyn and I to secrecy. Who do you think helped her practise the big speech? She’s gone back to her room for the evening, but she told me to tell you we’ll celebrate tomorrow with just the four of us.”

As much as you wanted Gwyn to participate in the celebrations, you understood it was too much. She had already stepped up more than enough by hosting the ceremonies for you and Nesta in a court that had been known to treat females badly. It was a gift you could never repay. Ever the kind and doting female, Lirilla had escorted Emerie back to her shared room with Gwyn after several glasses of strong wine over an hour ago.

Despite the music and loud chatter at your table, a heavy set of footsteps caused you to turn your head, meeting the green eyes of Tamlin. He was dressed in his green robes, an elegant gold sash across his broad chest. He dipped his head respectfully as he approached, nodded to the three of you.

“Well, if you told me when you returned to my court temporarily that this would be the outcome of it all, I’m not sure I would have believed you.” Tamlin said to you with a playful whisper of a smile on his lips, large hands clasped behind his back.

“Well, I’m full of surprises.” You joked.

“That you are.” Tamlin agreed before turning to Nesta and Eris. “You’ve got yourselves an extraordinary female here. Do not take her for granted.”

Eris simply smirked, taking another swig of his red wine. “Fear not, she will be well taken care of and respected.”

Tamlin’s eyes then landed on Nesta, his shoulders tensing for a moment, perhaps anticipating a scathing comment about how he failed to respect Feyre. But Nesta simply nodded, “Thank you, Tamlin.” She said, without an ounce of contempt.

The High Lord discreetly breathed a sigh of relief before turning back towards you. “May I have a dance?”

“Of course.” You replied, pushing back your chair and standing up. Lucien, ever the gentleman, came up to Nesta and offered her his hand as well, which she accepted. With your dance partners in tow, you and Nesta were led to the large dance floor where the crowd parted ways for you. You smiled at those who offered you their blessings as you passed them, the warm reception much welcome.

As the tune changed into a waltz, you swayed side to side with Tamlin, his large hands respectfully holding you close. You glanced over at Nesta and Lucien, who were dancing as well – granted, much better than you and Tamlin. You chuckled, impressed at Lucien’s ability to keep up with Nesta. In the distance, Eris also looked rather amused, shooting you a wink that made you roll your eyes.

“So,” Tamlin said, his voice snapping you back to the present. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation. “I am.”

He nodded, spinning you around once before bringing you back into the formal waltz position. “Good. I know this is your home now, but you are always welcome in Spring. Please do not forget that.”

Your heart ached at the thought of going back. “I’d love to visit, but I have nobody left there.” You admitted. “I do not think I can ever go back long term. Besides, I am High Lady now. I have duties to attend to.”

Tamlin chuckled. “Of course. If anyone can keep Eris and line and change this court around, I can think of nobody better than you. And Nesta, of course. But the moment you revealed your plan to me, I knew you could do anything you put your mind to.” He pulled away for a moment, his green eyes looking down at you seriously. “You will be a wonderful High Lady. You deserve it.”

You took a deep breath, emotion overcoming you. Tamlin was High Lord when you were born, protecting you and looking out for you when your father became ill temporarily. As a child, you had grown to view him more as an older brother than someone you bowed to. “That means a lot,” You whispered. “Thank you.”

Before he could reply, loud shouts came from the entrance, followed by several screams. In a flash, Eris was on the dance floor next to you and Nesta, and the guards drew their swords. Tamlin’s talons unsheathed themselves as he stood in front of you, while Lucien’s hand drifted towards the blade on his hip. The orchestra stopped playing, and the crowd scurried frantically to part ways, revealing two males – one with wings, and one with angry violet eyes. In the distance, two guards lay dead, blood oozing out of their chests.

Blood that dripped from Cassian’s sword.

Instantly, you reached out and grabbed Nesta’s arm. She had gone cold as ice, her body frozen as she stared with wide eyes at the Illyrian general. This was not the friendly, joking Cassian that the Valkyries had trained with. No, his face was twisted with fury, eyes so dark they were almost black as he snarled at anyone who looked at him. This was the Lord of Bloodshed, in all his glory. Behind him stood his master, the male who held his leash. Rhys had his hands casually in his pockets, as if Cassian hadn’t just killed two of your guards.

Eris stepped forward, his tone nonchalant but laced with undoubted threat. “Rhysand, I thought you and your pack of dogs had gone home to your pregnant lady-wife by now.” 

“Enough is enough, Eris.” Rhys growled in response, the dark mist that had once lashed through your skin slowly ebbing from his palms, making the crowd back away even further. You tensed at the memory, stomach churning in fear. “Too long have you played your games. You are High Lord now, and have finally found a female who is willing to shackle herself to you.”

“Two, actually.” Eris quipped. “Your observation skills are quite poor.”

“You can keep (Y/N), if you truly wish. We are here for Nesta, not her.”

You sucked in a breath, grabbing Nesta’s arm even tighter. Although it seemed she barely felt your ironclad grip. She just stared at Cassian, frozen with a look of horror on her face. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife. That horror increased as more footsteps sounded from the entrance. Amren, Elain, Mor, and Feyre approached, coming to stand behind Rhys. Feyre was clinging onto Mor and Elain for support, her pregnant belly weighing her down. Her face was pale and thin, and she looked so miserable you almost felt bad. Tamlin growled lowly at the sight of Feyre, who shrunk back a little at the sight of him. Elain made eye contact with Lucien for the first time that evening, her eyes widening at his close proximity to Nesta.

“Nesta is the High Lady of this court,” Eris said calmly but menacingly at the new arrivals. “She belongs here now. Not with you. You have no claim to her.”

“You’re wrong.” Cassian finally spoke up, his voice grated like stones being dragged across each other. “Nesta is my mate. I invoke the right to a blood duel. Come and face me, Eris. Prove you are not a coward for once in your goddamn life.”

Surprised gasps rippled throughout the crowd. The guests were safely behind the guards, but with the Night Court so close to the entrance they had nowhere to go. You were pretty sure you were going to be sick all over Tamlin’s expensive breeches. This could not be happening. After everything, you thought this day would bring a new beginning, one free from the shackles of the Night Court.

“I am not an object to be claimed at your will.” Nesta said sternly, eyes glowing silver ever so slightly.

Feyre took a wobbly step forward. “Please, Nesta.” She begged. “Come back with us. We can work things out. You belong with us, with Cassian. There’s no need for a blood duel. Just come.”

“Please, Nesta.” Elain added, although her voice seemed strained as if she were trying to remember a script. You glanced at Lucien, who was looking at his mate with surprise. But there was no affection behind his gaze, no longing or desire for once.

“This is ridiculous,” Eris scoffed. “You are embarrassing yourself. By killing my guards and demanding a blood duel, you are declaring war on my court. But I am a generous male. Leave, now. And do not return and I will forget this happened. You have my word.” Morgoth’s deep growl sounded, followed by Athariel and Zorzimril’s. The three dragons creepy back through their spot in the open wall, their large talons scraping against the floor menacingly.

“You are bound by law to participate,” Cassian growled, ignoring the beasts. “I am Nesta’s mate–”

Eris interrupted him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you though?”

The room went still, even Cassian’s sneering came to a pause. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked quietly.

Beside you, Nesta’s heart was racing. She grabbed your hand and squeezed it, snapped out of her trance. You could feel her confusion through the bond, adding to your own. But Eris continued. “Well, I found it a bit of a coincidence that the High Lord’s adopted brother was conveniently mated to the High Lady’s sister. How nice would that be? To have the brute was a way of keeping Nesta in line and by your side. It all seemed a little too convenient for me, so I consulted with Helion about certain spells that give similar effects to a mating bond.”

Ever so slightly, Rhysand’s smugness faltered as the High Lord of the Day Court stepped forward. His white robes shone in the candlelight as he spoke. “Eris is right,” Helion said, giving a glare at the party from the Night Court. “There are certain spells designed to mimic a mating bond. But there is always a flaw, for no spell can truly replicate such a bond.” He snapped his fingers, summoning a ball of white light. With a sweep of his arm, the light spread throughout the room and for a moment, you were blinded. But when your vision returned, you gasped.

Coming from your chest was a string of golden light. It sparkled, floating like a feather in the wind. It was connected to Nesta’s chest, and Eris’s. You gasped at the unmistakable warmth of the mating bond, now manifested in physical form before you. As you looked around, several others had gold light attaching them to another person, including Feyre and Rhys as well as Elain and Lucien.

But your gaze quickly turned to Nesta, who was staring down in awe. Instead of having two strands connected to her chest, there was a third leading to Cassian. But it was dimmer, the glow not as bright. 

“As you can see, the mating bond manifests strongly,” Helion said, walking up to the line that went from Nesta’s chest to Cassian’s. “Except here. This bond is weak, frail, held together by very little. It has almost no life to it, almost as if it is not meant to be there. Which it isn’t. This is a fake bond, cast in a spell that can only be found in one book.” Helion then turned to face the Night Court, his angry gaze landing on Rhys as he spoke to him. “I offered you unlimited access to my library to search for ways to save Feyre and the babe. And you took advantage of that to find a spell that would convince Nesta and Cassian that they were mates so you had an excuse to drag her back to your court. That is a violation of something sacred we all hold dear, and I am ashamed to have ever called you a friend.”

Mor scoffed, rolling her eyes. “That’s bullshit.”

“Really?” Helion turned to Nesta. “My lady, have you ever felt what Cassian was feeling? Been going about your day and suddenly felt a rush of his emotions as if they were your own? Have you ever felt like you were being pulled to him with the force of a current?”

Nesta shook her head, the silver fire now gone from her eyes and replaced with disgust. “No.” She said simply. “I’ve felt… tugged to him. But not like with Eris or (Y/N).” 

“That is because the bond is fake. It cannot properly simulate the feelings that a mating bond invokes. It is a spell cast by Rhys meant to control you.”

Even Eris was silent, but you could tell by the look on his face that he knew Helion was right, and had suspected it all along. You felt his rage inside of you, blazing like a thousand wildfires at this violation Rhys had committed. 

“Rhys,” Feyre said quietly in horror. “Tell me this isn’t true.” But her mate said nothing. He merely stared ahead, violet eyes simmering at you, Eris, Nesta, and Helion. She grabbed his hand, wobbling as she broke away from Elain’s grip. “Please, Rhys.” Tears streamed down Feyre’s face as she begged.

But he remained quiet.

“Break it.” Nesta said to Helion, her voice clear as day.

“What?” Cassian finally spoke up, his eyes snapping back to the present. He flared his wings angrily. 

“You are Helion Spell-Cleaver, are you not?” Nesta asked the High Lord of the Day Court, hands clenched into fists as she spoke through gritted teeth. “I said break it.”

“No!” Cassian cried out desperately, taking a step towards Nesta. Instantly, a line of Eris’s fire shot up in front of him, blocking his path. Through the flames, Cassian’s face was shattered, like a male who was about to get his heart ripped out of his chest.

“What do you mean, no?” Eris snapped, his composed image of seething patience finally gone as he shot a fiery glare at the Illyrian general. “Your bond is fake. Best get rid of it anyway so you can go back to whatever it is you brutes do.”

Cassian ignored Eris’s jibe, falling to his knees before the flames and staring up at Nesta. “Please, don’t do this.” He begged. “Even if it isn’t a real bond, it’s something. I’ve fucked up, Nes. I have treated you like shit and I should have done more. But we can work through it together. Just give us a chance, remember how you felt for me during the war? Don’t throw it all away. Please.”

Nesta simply stared blankly at Cassian’s blubbering form. There was no pity in her eyes as she spoke. “No. I do not want to be shackled to you in any way shape or form. Not because you are a bastard, or an Illyrian brute. But because I deserve better than the way I’ve been treated by you. I hope you find happiness one day, but it will not be with me.” Cassian let out a sob, but Nesta simply turned towards Helion and nodded, ignoring him. Feyre had gone silent, her eyes vacant and teary as she clearly fought mind to mind with her mate. Elain watched in horror, rubbing her sister’s back as the High Lord of the Day Court raised his arms, summoning a mighty blade of celestial light. It glowed with the strength of a thousand suns, making everyone in the room stare up in awe.

With a mighty stroke, Helion brought down the blade of light onto the rope between Nesta and Cassian, cleaving it in two.

Like a tidal wave had crashed through the room, everyone staggered back as blinding light erupted. Nesta cried out, Eris catching her as she lost her footing. Cassian screamed, hands clawing at his chest as if he could cling onto the shards of the false bond and hold them close. Tamlin grabbed you by the shoulders, steading you as you swayed from the eruption of the magic. But while Cassian continued screaming and sobbing, Nesta was silent. Her eyes were wide as her chest heaved for breaths, but she was not in agony.

In fact, it was like she was finally free.

The flames between your group and the Night Court dissipated, and the magic that revealed the mating bonds was gone. Where the false bond was between Cassian and Nesta, grey ashes now lay on the floor, the wind coming in through the windows gently blowing it away.

“It is done.” Helion said, inhaling deeply albeit slightly pale. Lucien came to his father’s side, ready to steady him if needed.

“Wonderful.” Eris quipped as he helped Nesta back on her feet. “Now that that’s dealt with, there is no need for a blood duel. Or for you to be here, Night Court. Leave my palace this instant.”

“What have you done, boy…” Amren said quietly to Rhysand. She had been silent up until now, her eyes simmering as she stared up at her high lord. “And why did you not tell me?”

Rhys spoke for the first time since Helion stepped forward, his jaw tense. “I needed Nesta back in Night.”

“Why?” Amren snapped. “If the girl wants to flounce about in autumn so be it, she’s not our problem any more. I thought you’d be happy about that. Cassian would have gotten over her eventually, so don’t say it was for him. Or for your mate, who existed with us happily without that wench. What aren’t you telling us?”

“There’s a lot he’s not telling you.” A familiar, deep voice came. From the shadows, Azriel appeared in the corner, hazel eyes narrowed as he stalked up to his High Lord. “Go on, Rhys. Will you tell them why you wanted Nesta back so badly, or should I?”

Rhys at least had the sense to look uneasy. His gaze shifted from Azriel to Feyre, who was looking at him with teary eyes. “Az… what are you doing? I thought you’d gone home…” Mor asked from beside her, wariness lacing her voice.

Azriel ignored her, twirling Truth-teller casually in his hands as he maintained eye contact with Rhys. “I did some digging of my own while you sent me to keep an eye on the mortal queens and seek out Koschei,” He said coldly. “One last chance, Rhysand. You tell them what you’ve done, or I will.”

“Azriel, if you do this you will be banished from my court.” Rhys growled, fingers curling into fists. But he was unable to hide the rising panic in his voice.

The shadowsinger merely laughed hoarsely. “I don’t care. I have no plans on going back anyways. You can kill me after this for all I care, but everyone deserves to know the truth.”

You exchanged an uneasy look with Eris, who appeared just as confused. You hadn’t heard much from Azriel since Beron’s death, only that he was making sure your friends were safe. Truthfully, you had no idea where his allegiances had been the last few weeks. But for him to confront Rhysand so boldly like this… you shuddered. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. Almost instantly after you shuddered, Eris’s warm hand found your waist, pulling you closer to him and Nesta. Tamlin shifted slightly, keeping his position in front of you with his talons out. Cassian had stopped sobbing and returned to his feet, eyes darting frantically back and forth between his two brothers.

“Rhys,” Feyre’s voice was weak, as if she had no strength left in her. “Please. Just tell us what’s going on.”

The High Lord of the Night Court turned to face his wife, teeth gritted. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.” His voice reminded you of a snake, sly and menacing enough to make Feyre flinch back.

“And what is it that you’ve done?” Amren asked incredulously.

“He sent me to keep an eye on Koschei,” Azriel spoke up again, voice lethally quiet. Nesta froze at the mention of the Death-God. “To figure out what he was planning and how he was able to bind a spell to Vassa so tightly that none of us could break it. But I found something else in my search.”

“What did you find, spymaster?” Eris asked. His attempt to come across as nonchalant failed, for his face went paler at the name of the old god.

“Rhys made a bargain with him, one that found a way to save Feyre and the baby.”

“Azriel.” Rhys barked. “Stand down.” Dark power filled the room, the kind that brought his subjects to their knees. People cried out in pure terror at the sensation.

But Azriel did not yield, did not move a muscle as he continued. “A bargain that traded one life for another. Nesta’s life, in exchange for Feyre’s.”

There was not a single sound in the room for several moments. Until a loud sob broke from Feyre, the sound echoing throughout the vast chamber. Beside you, Eris was utterly still. Too still. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it. As much as you hated Rhys, the last thing you needed was Eris annihilating him on the spot.

“You did what?” Feyre practically screeched.

But there was no guilt in Rhys’s expression as he faced her. “I said I would do whatever it took to save you. I found a way, didn’t I?”

“Not if it means killing my sister! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Feyre sobbed, and Rhys stepped towards her but she backed away, eyes wide. “How could you?”

“Tell me this isn’t true.” Cassian begged, then whirled on Azriel. “This is some fucked up lie you made up to tear us apart, isn’t it?”

“That’s not all.” Azriel said evenly, ignoring Cassian. “Go on, Rhys. Tell everyone what else you promised Koschei in return for the life of your mate and her baby.”

Nobody was moving. Nesta swayed beside you, holding onto Eris for support. Her grey eyes were vacant, as if she were far away. Even Cassian seemed to forget about Nesta and his intentions on having a blood duel, his attention focused on Rhys.

“I promised him I would ensure his safe passage into Prythian,” Rhys began, voice quiet as if he hoped the room wouldn’t hear him. “As long as he spared Velaris from his path.”

Your heart dropped. Rhysand made a deal with the death god in the lake, and would have allowed him to kill Nesta and destroy Prythian as long as his precious city was safe. Sickness churned in your stomach. He was ready to let hundreds and thousands die, many of whom were in his own court.

“You intended to let a death god of the Old World destroy our courts and slaughter us all?” Kallias stood up from his seat at the High Lords table. The others and their parties joined him, unable to hide their shock and betrayal.

“And yet you still wanted the benefits of having us as allies?” Tarquin chimed in with disgust. “My court has already suffered enough, thanks to you. How could you do this?”

Eris laughed horsley. “Am I the only one not surprised by this? Of course he would do this. Frankly, I would almost admire the dedication… if you were sparing more than a singular city.” His amber gaze landed on Rhys, pinning him to the spot. “But no. You are willing to let two thirds of your own court get slaughtered in the process. This isn’t the actions of a leader, it’s the actions of a coward who doesn’t give a shit about his people.”

“Velaris is the only good city. Illyria is a backwards and vile place,” Mor protested weakly. “And the Hewn City–”

“Has hundreds of other females like you waiting to be rescued.” Eris interrupted her, anger dripping from his words. “Do you deem yourself the only dreamer in the Court of Nightmares, Morrigan? Is it only you who was innocent? Only you who deserved to be saved?”

Mor opened her mouth to respond, but closed it quickly. She turned her attention to stabilising Feyre, who had stopped crying and was staring at Rhys as if she had no idea who he was. 

“Rhys wanted Nesta back so he had her ready to hand her over to Koschei when the time came.” Azriel said. “That, Amren, is what he wasn’t telling you.”

“I don’t believe this!” Cassian insisted. “Did you speak with Koschei himself, Az? How could you possibly know this? What proof do you have?”

“Helion, there is a glamour placed on Rhysand’s left palm.” Azriel said coolly. “Unveil it.”

The High Lord of the Day Court waved his hand, and a ripple of magic went down Rhys’s arm from his elbow to his fingertips. You sucked in a deep breath as a mark was revealed, one of striking back ink like the vague outline of an eye with three prongs trickling down the bottom. The room went cold, as if death itself was somehow engraved in the tattoo.

“Mother above…” Tamlin muttered.

Feyre spoke after a moment. “So, what, you were going to just have Nesta kidnapped and shipped off to Koschei when the time was right? And expect me to not search for her and just accept that she is gone? I mean what was the plan here, Rhys? How did you think you could just do this? And let over half our court die along the way?”

“I don’t care!” Rhys shouted, causing the crowd to flinch. Fury rippled off of him as he spewed his words. “I don’t fucking care about Illyria or the Hewn City. I don’t care about the other courts, I don’t care about Nesta. All I care about is saving you, and our baby. Because I cannot live without you, Feyre!” 

Feyre’s throat bobbed, and for a moment your heart ached for the High Lady. Even after everything she had done, you felt pity for her. Pity that she had been so easily manipulated by this male, and was only now seeing him for his true self. “Let me get one thing clear,” Feyre said through tears. “My life is not worth more than my sister’s. I will not have her life traded for mine.”

“It’s already done,” Rhys said, grabbing Feyre’s hand firmly. “And it’s the only way to save the baby. And you. So I’m doing it.”

“Actually,” Eris piped up. “It’s not the only way.”

Rhys’s head snapped around towards him. “What did you just say?”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Did you not get my letter inviting you to a meeting to discuss a way to potentially save the baby and your mate?”

“What letter?” Feyre asked, brows furrowed.

“We ignored it, obviously.” Amren snorted. “A viper like you cannot be trusted, how were we to know it wasn’t a trap?”

Feyre turned on the small female. “You guys got a letter saying there was a potential way to save the baby and you failed to tell me?”

“We didn’t want to give you hope.” Amren snapped back.

Before the High Lady could protest further, you decided you had enough. “Do you want to hear it, or not?” You asked sharply. Thankfully, the Night Court went silent. Even Rhys had bit his tongue.

“As I was saying,” Eris continued with annoyance. “The healers in my court have had success removing babies surgically. It has been done for centuries, and we have the best of the best. The recovery time is a bit more painful, but it would be the safest way. And we were prepared to offer that to you.”

“For a price.” Nesta interjected coldly. Elain’s eyes widened, tears evident even from where she was standing behind Mor, who was looking at her with disgust.

“You would put conditions on saving your sister’s life?” Mor baulked. “You’re vile, Nesta Vanserra.” She spat out the name like venom.

But Nesta did not falter. “Just as you have put conditions on mine. ‘Scry for us, or Elain does it. Die in the human lands, or train in the House of Wind. Have dinner with us, or we will withhold your money’. Those are some of the few ‘choices’ you have given me. It seems only fair that I extend the same courtesy in return.” 

Shocked gaps filled the room, with looks of astonishment from the High Lords. Nesta was known across all of Prythian – the Kingslayer, the Cauldron-made Death Queen. You hadn’t even realised that most of the world probably thought she was living a life of peace and luxury as the esteemed sister of the High Lady. But the facade of illusion had been ripped down like curtains from an old house, and you couldn’t be happier.

“Spare me the lecture about how it was for my own good. I have no interest in rehashing everything again.” Was all Nesta said before landing her gaze on Rhys. “We will save you and the baby, but in return I want the Mask and the Harp, as well as my Made weapons you so kindly voted for me not to have. You will also leave my court alone for good, and end this incessant pursuit of bringing me back. Those are my terms, take it or leave it.”

“I’ve already sworn the bargain,” Rhys protested. “It cannot be undone.”

“Find a way.” Nesta replied coldly.

“It’s not possible.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

Rhys let out a low growl. “It will be your problem when he comes for you and your new court.”

Nesta laughed dryly. “Between my abilities, my mates’ abilities, our dragons and armies, and the Troves and the Made weapons, I am confident in our abilities to take care of it. Break the bargain, Rhysand. Find a way, I do not care what the consequences are. If you want Feyre to be saved, you will agree to my terms.”

A few minutes of silence followed. You waited with bated breath, watching as the wheels turned in Rhysand’s brain. Azriel only stared at his brother with disgust, arms crossed. You could feel Zorzimril’s presence in the background, practically begging you to let her roast the Night Court prick alive. 

But this was not your life to claim.

“Done.” Rhys said through gritted teeth. “Just save Feyre and the baby. I will find a way to deal with Koschei.”

Eris clapped his hands together. “Wonderful. And to think this all could have been avoided if you had just listened to my letter. Pity.”

Rhys ignored him, turning on his heel to leave. “We should go, we have business in the Hewn City.” He spat with frustration at his party.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Azriel said nonchalantly from the corner.

Rhys froze, turning slowly to face the shadowsinger. “What do you mean, traitor?”

“I mean the people in the Hewn City already know you planned to sacrifice them to Koschei,” Azriel said dryly. “And Illyria. I don’t think you’d be very welcome. Let’s hope the wards outside Velaris are as strong as they used to be.”

“Holy shit…” You heard Helion mutter under his breath.

Holy shit was right. Cassian had gone white as a ghost, and Mor looked like she was going to pass out. Even amidst your shock, you chuckled, earning a snort from Nesta beside you. There was no need for you to try and destroy the Night Court further. It seems they would do that on their own soon enough.

“You told the lords and generals?” Fear seeped through the facade of sternness in Rhys’s voice, palpable in the air.

“No.” Was all Azriel said.

“Then who did you tell? The fucking birds?” Cassian yelped furiously.

The shadowsinger merely cocked his head. “Funny. Little birds often whisper the strangest stories.”

“You are done with my court.” Rhys said. “Don’t even bother getting your things. If you step foot in my borders again, you will be dead. Do you understand me?”

“Clear as day.”

Eris groaned. “Well, now that this is all settled, I think I’ve had enough of the Night Court airing out their dirty laundry at my wedding. Get out, now. I will send my healers to deliver the baby in three days time, at which I expect my wife’s belongings, Troves and all, to be returned.”

As the Night Court scurried out like rats, you breathed a sigh of relief. “Holy shit.” You muttered.

“Holy shit indeed.” Tamlin replied. “What just happened?”

“Koschei is coming for me…” Nesta muttered, more to herself than anyone. You grabbed her waist, pulling her close and resting your head on her shoulder. Despite her calm demeanour, you could feel the tremble in her bones. 

“We won’t let that happen.” You said quietly.

“None of us will.” Came Tarquin’s voice. Him, Thesan, Helion, and Kallias all made their way over to where you and Eris stood holding Nesta. 

“That’s right,” Tamlin agreed, turning to face you. “If Koschei comes for any of you, me and my armies will be there to help.”

“And mine.” Kallias spoke up, Tarquin and Helion following in agreement.

“I do not wish for open war against the Night Court,” Thesan said, a look of pity in his eyes. “But what he was willing to do to you, to all of us, is unacceptable. No longer is Rhysand considered an ally or friend. Eris, Nesta, (Y/N), you have the support of me and my court.”

“With five courts behind you, Koschei doesn’t stand a chance.” Helion insisted, coming to stand next to Nesta and playfully putting a hand on her shoulders. “Besides, I think Lady Death here could take on a Death God all by herself. We likely will just be there as cheerleaders.”

Nesta let out a laugh – a genuine laugh. It echoed like a song from the heavens, spreading a huge grin across your face. Helion, delighted with himself, laughed too. Soldiers began putting away their swords, easing the tense atmosphere.

You couldn’t help but notice how scared some of the crowd still looked. After all, the beautiful wedding had been derailed so fast and so easily they were left rattled. So you let go of Nesta, pushing past Tamlin and stepping towards the crowd. “My friends,” You began, letting your voice ring strong. “I know this evening did not go how you thought it would. Mother knows I didn’t anticipate this. And I understand the revelations tonight were shocking and unsettling, there is no denying that. But trust me when I say this: the death god will not destroy us. He will not take this court, or the lives of its people. As long as we are united, it will be Koschei who learns to fear us, not the other way around.”

Applause erupted from the crowd, and cheers began to echo in the air once again. With a wave from Eris, the music and festivities slowly resumed. With a smirk on his face, he sauntered over and pulled you in by the waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “My, my, what a lovely speech.” He purred in your ear. “I must say I love seeing you like this. High Lady looks good on you, wife.”

“Thank you, husband.” You melted into his touch, letting his warm scent envelop you.

“I might have to reward you for such bravery later.” He said.

You turned to face him, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. “I remember you saying such proclivities had to wait until after the wedding…”

Eris hummed, stroking your waist with his thumb. The act alone sent sparks through your system, igniting every nerve. “I did, didn’t I? It looks like things here are wrapping up anyways, so technically the wedding is over…” He grabbed your hand, and after saying a polite goodbye to the guests who required it, the two of you sought out Nesta, pulling her away from her conversation with some courtiers. 

Irritated at first, she huffed. “What are you–”

“It’s time.” Was all Eris said. Those two words made Nesta shift instantly, the annoyance in her posture relaxing into something else.

“Really?” She said incredulously, excitement creeping into her voice.

“I don’t think I can wait a second longer.” Was all Eris replied with, making your stomach do a flip. You had fantasised about this moment for weeks, it almost didn’t feel real. Within minutes of weaving through the corridors, the noise of the party was drowned out, and Eris took out a key you hadn’t seen before to a room you didn’t recognize.

He unlocked the strange door and gently pushed you inside.

Nesta ran her fingers through your hair, plaiting it up in a coronet identical to her own. Her hands were steady, despite the raging sea of nerves that wracked both of you. It was a day’s ride to the Night Court on dragonback, and you could practically feel Zôrzimril itching to take flight. Without moving your head, you glanced at the window, seeing your dragon's golden scales shining in the moonlight. Athariel was behind her, the two mighty beasts laying down and resting before their long journey. 

Both of you donned your new riding leathers, with featherlight but sturdy pieces of armour attached. The shoulder pieces were scaled like dragon skin – yours, gold, and Nesta’s silver. The designs of the leather blended with the metal armour were beautifully crafted, fitting perfectly to your forms. You didn’t know if you wanted Eris to tell you how much he spent commissioning the pieces, but you were grateful for the protection nonetheless. 

As Nesta carefully pinned your hair in place, your stomach churned. The plan to help the females of the Night Court escape would finally conclude by tomorrow morning. Despite the detailed planning and the fact you had all the other High Lords helping the cause, nerves still wracked you. As much as you could guide the females down the right path, there would undoubtedly be many who were too afraid to leave.

It is their choice, you had to remind yourself constantly. Being from a different court, there is only so much you could do.

“Where are you right now?” Nesta murmured, resting her hands on her shoulders and looking at you in the mirror that sat on your dresser in front of you.

You blinked, pushing away your negative thoughts. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “You have that distant look in your eyes. And I can hear that brain of yours ticking away like an old watch. What exactly are you fretting about?”

“What am I not fretting about is the easier question,” you grumbled. “There are so many things that could go wrong with this plan.”

The scraping of chair legs filled the room as Nesta pulled up a second chair, placing it next to yours and taking a seat. “Like that? Let us rationalise it, ok?”

You took a deep breath. “This is the truly final piece to my plan. The last piece on the board to fall. One way or another, we’ve gotten what we wanted so far. What if this is where it all goes wrong?”

“I think you forget the countless times things already have gone wrong,” Nesta gently reminded you. “Rhys capturing you, your engagement to Malgorm, much of what you planned has gone awry in some way. Yet it has all worked out – this will, too. Remember, you’re not doing it alone this time. We have Tarquin, Thesan, Helion, Tamlin, and Kallias all helping with the full support of their courts. We will be fine.”

“But the females might not be.” You pointed out, trying to keep your brain from worrying about how the groups could be followed and hunted down on their journey to escape.

“The ones from the Hewn City have Gwyn and Azriel to protect them, and the Illyrian females know the mountain passes better than any of the males. They can handle themselves,” Nesta insisted. 

Gwyn had gone back into the Night Court a few hours after the meeting in Solaris to begin her whisper network. You had watched with a mix of pride and worry as she grabbed the shadowsinger’s hand, winnowing back into the very place she would be in the most danger. Somehow, deep down, you knew she would be okay. This was not the shy, frightened Gwyn you had first met in the Library. No, she had grown a new strength that rivalled the toughest steel in the armoury. With Azriel at her side, they would protect the females from the Court of Nightmares.

“Is Emerie still going with you to the Illyrian meetup point?” Nesta asked you, adjusting the armbands on her leathers.

You nodded.

“Good. Illyria will be the hardest path to navigate. Helion, Lucien and I will easily be able to get the Hewn City females to the cove and across the border. But you’ll have to extend your magic quite far into the Steppes, have you rested enough for that?”

“I think so,” you stood up, walking over to your table of breakfast and forcing a few orange slices into your mouth to calm your stomach. It tasted bitter on your tongue, and it took everything in you to swallow it.

Your mate snorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “A fat lie. You were tossing and turning so much I was tempted to smother you to sleep,”

Smirking, you turned back to Nesta. “Well, there are ways in which you could smother me that I wouldn’t mind…”

Nesta’s cheeks went red, but she swatted you with her hand towel. “Insatiable thing. Did we not satisfy you enough yesterday before Eris left?” 

Now it was your turn to blush and look away. Eris had taken his and Tamlin’s armies on ships up to the Western coast of the Night Court. His goal was to feign an offensive launch to draw out the armies, undoubtedly drawing out Rhysand as well. False negotiations would take place, centring around questioning if Rhysand had dealt with Koschei yet – and if not, all six courts were prepared to attack and eliminate him entirely to break the bargain. But before he had left in his shining High Lord armour, your husband spent hours showing both you and Nesta how much he would miss his wives.

You shook your shoulders, brushing off the heated memories before you pounced on Nesta. The mating bonds in your chest urged you to engage in the frenzy that was common for new mates, but you resisted for now, choosing to change the subject. “So Helion will shelter everyone at the Day Court until me and my ships arrive with the Illyrian females since we don’t have the magic to winnow everyone,” you said, revisiting your plan you had gone over a million times.

Despite your constant repetition, Nesta remained patient. “Yes, my love,” she said. “Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Vivianne will be with you. I will have Helion and Thesan with me, and we will be waiting for you and the Illyrians to arrive before dividing everyone up.”

At the High Lord’s meeting a few days ago, every ruler had agreed to provide a home to a certain number of refugees. Autumn and Summer were taking the most, followed by Day, Spring, Dawn, and then Winter. “I can accommodate however many you need,” Kallias had said when discussing the logistics. “However, I do not think many will want to come. It is a harsher environment than many are used to, except maybe the Illyrians.”

With every court helping, there was room for thousands of females spread across Prythian. Nesta had played a large role in coordinating with builders and stonemasons from the other courts, sharing her plans and models from Solaris as reference for the construction of more shelters. It was an effort shared by fae all across the lands, a thought which warmed your heart.

“Everything is as in place as it can be, I guess,” you said, glancing outside at the rise of the moon from behind the mountains, a signal that it was time to go. “We are prepared. I just want all of this to be over. Aside from dealing with Koschei, this is the last obstacle to climb before I can finally relax, I think.”

Nesta placed a kiss on your cheek. “Me too. Now let’s go get Emerie, so we can get those females out of there and be done with all this.”

**********************

A surprisingly alert Emerie was already waiting for you in the clearing where Athariel and Zôrzimril waited. The beasts lifted their heads and called out happily, making Emerie flinch.

You laughed, causing the winged female to snap playfully, “Don’t even. Not all of us are used to dragons. Give me a hundred years before you expect me to not jump at those noises.” She donned black leathers with black armour, and that familiar white ribbon across her forehead. Her wings were a blueish black in the moonlight, 

“Well you’re about to spend a full day on the back of one so best get used to it quickly.” You grabbed your supply sac from Saeros, nodding your thanks before hauling it over your back. Despite having food, water, and extra clothes, it was not heavy thanks to a special spell from Helion. 

Emerie slung her identical sac over her arm. “We ready?”

“This is the most awake I’ve ever seen you at this hour,” Nesta joked from a few feet away where she was greeting Athariel, stroking the silver beast’s nose.

“I’m on a mission, okay?” Emerie shrugged. “Finally being able to help with something really awakens you.”

Colourful leaves crunched underneath your boots as you lead Emerie over to where Zôrzimril was waiting. “You say that like you haven't been up from sunrise to sunset working on Solaris for over two months,” you pointed out.

Emerie’s response was cut off as Zôrzimril lowered her head upon your approach, emitting a low rumbling noise as she eyes up the winged female. Emerie’s eyes were wide, and she stopped in her tracks. 

“It’s ok,” you reassured her as you ran your hand down the dragon’s jaw. “She’s just checking you out and saying hi. She won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“Come test it yourself. Say hello back.”

After a few protests, you managed to drag Emerie forward until she was face to face with your dragon. Zôrzimril’s nostrils flared, her eyes squinting as she seized up the creature in front of her. Gently, you grabbed Emerie’s hand, placing it on the dragon’s snout. She let out a gasp as her hand made contact with the hard but smooth scales of the beast, jaw slack with wonder. 

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “She feels so…”

“Powerful?” You finished your friend’s sentence for her, and she nodded.

“I never thought I’d know what it was to fly,” her voice was faraway, as if her mind and body were disconnected in a drift between memories and dreams. “I guess I will now.”

Nesta had come up to the two of you, pulling you both in for a big hug. You held your mate and your friend, sighing into their comforting touch. “I’ll see you both soon, okay?” Nesta said.

“Stay safe,” Emerie said as she nodded, giving Nesta a squeeze on the shoulder before pulling back and heading towards Zôrzimril cautiously, securing the straps of her backpack across her chest.

Nesta turned to you, a well of emotions swimming in her blue grey eyes. “What we’re doing here is bigger than both of us,” she said. “It will be the final nail in the Night Court’s coffin. I find myself wondering if we have doomed them to a tragic fate in our pursuit for revenge.”

You frowned. “Are you having regrets?”

“No,” Nesta shook her head. “I’m not. But it makes me sad. For as much as I hated the Night Court, it was a beautiful place. Not all of them were bad.”

You took Nesta’s gloved hands in your own. “Velaris will be safe. And we are aiding as many of the females from Illyria and the Hewn City as we can. Rhys may be an arrogant prick, but he is not a complete fool. He will protect his remaining citizens from Koschei – he put himself in this position, not us. He was the one ready to sacrifice them, let him deal with the consequences of those actions. Besides, many may choose to flee regardless of if they come with us or not.”

Your mate sighed, nodding. “You’re right. I just… I keep thinking about Feyre and Elain and the baby. I don’t want anything to do with them, at least not for a long time, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.”

“What if we wrote a letter to them?” You offered. “Let them know that should they need it, there will be a place for them at one of the sanctuaries. It doesn’t have to be in Autumn – I am sure Tarquin or Helion would gladly take them in.”

A sad smile came over Nesta’s face. “I’d like that, thank you.”

You knew Nesta’s relationship with her sisters would never be the same after everything that had happened in the last two years. It was a loss she would grieve and carry with her for a while. As much as you didn’t care for the other two Archeron siblings, they, too, had been dragged into the faerie world against their will. Truly, you hoped that one day they’d find happiness and a good home in Prythian, just not with Nesta in the Autumn Court.

Giving Nesta’s hand one last squeeze, you turned towards Zôrzimril and walked over to where Emerie was stroking the beast’s neck. When the dragon saw you approaching, she eagerly dropped her shoulder, extending her wing towards the ground for you to grab onto. So you gently stepped up onto the dragon’s scaling spikes, holding her wing for support and climbing up onto her back. In just a few movements, you settled yourself into the gaps between the horns at the base of Zôrzimril’s neck.

You peered down at Emerie, who went white. “Come on!” You called out in encouragement.

“That’s how you get up?” The Illyrian female baulked, causing you to scoff.

“Did you think we had a ladder or a staircase to get up?”

“Yes, actually!”

“Well time to put those Valkyrie muscles to use and get your ass up here.”

Emerie sighed, muttering to herself but grabbed onto Zôrzimril’s wing shakily. Awkwardly, she managed to scale up the dragon’s shoulder, panting and plopping herself down behind you. “That’s not as easy as you made it look.” She huffed.

You shrugged. “Take’s practice, now clip in.”

Emerie did so, taking the rope that was attached to her belt and clipping it onto the holster that was fitted around Zôrzimril’s nearest horn. You did the same, watching as Athariel spread her mighty silver wings beside you. The beast ran forward and shot into the air with the agility of a cat, and you heard Nesta whoop with delight. She seemed like a speck of dust on the large creature, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her turning her head around to look at you one more time.

Zôrzimril screeched in defiance of being left behind, and you patted her scales. “Volare,” you said to her using the command Eris had taught you. Happy to oblige, the dragon lifted her head, causing Emerie to grasp onto the scales in front of her and curse as she spread her wings and catapulted into the air.

The female behind you let out a yelp, and you lifted your chin to the stars above and sighed deeply, relishing the feeling of climbing higher and higher into the sky. Zôrzimril’s powerful body soared through the clouds, her wings cutting through them like razor sharp blades. 

It was only another minute before your ascent finished and you finally broke free of the clouds, and Zôrzimril angled herself straight once more. She let out a happy screech, dipping her claw down to slice through the clouds below as she flew North. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view. The moon was bright, illuminating everything in a blue-silver tone. The stars shone brightly even with the light of the moon, twinking as if they were greeting you.

Behind you, Emerie’s breathing had steadied. “Holy shit…” She said with awe.

You turned to face your friend. “A bit different than being carried through the skies by an Illyrian male”

“You have no idea…” Her brown eyes were wide with wonder as they drank in the view of the midnight sky. She stretched her wings as far as they could go, sighing. “I never thought I’d feel the wind on my wings like this.”

Despite the cold night air, your heart warmed at seeing your friend so happy. Carefully, she let go of her ironclad grip on Zôrzimril’s horns, letting her arms stretch out to the side. Straightening her shoulders, she tipped her head back and let out a whoop to the stars. Her voice rang out amongst the clear sky, and her smile did not fade all the way to the Night Court.

**********************

Your legs were numb from flying for so long, even a few hours later as you gathered around a small campfire with Emerie, Tarquin, Viviane, and Kallias. A small unit of guards were stationed nearby, ready to jump into action should things go south. Luckily, Kallias had put up a glamour around the beach, shielding both everyone on land and on the ships just offshore from lingering eyes. The Lord and Lady of Winter each donned their white fur coats that, combined with their pale skin and hair, made them glow under moon high. Tarquin wore a simple blue tunic with a deep V, his white hair braided back out of his chiselled face. While unmistakably powerful beings, they were dressed like they were going to a simple meeting rather than a rescue mission – perhaps as to not frighten the females. No doubt there was armour glamoured somewhere, ready to replace their casual attire at the snap of fingers. 

“They should be here soon,” Emerie muttered, pacing nervously and glancing at the rocky hills in the distance that led to the Illyrian Mountains where the females would be coming from. The steppes began half a mile away from the rocky beach where you stood, the beige and brown shrubbery rustling in the wind eerily. 

At least the mountains had shelter, places to hide from anyone who may try and follow the large groups. But the steppes were out in the open, which made you nervous.

“Give it time,” Tarquin said gently. “This is not a swift moving group of warriors. They are likely burdened with their provisions, as well as children and the sick or elderly.”

“Why can’t we just meet them at the end of the mountain pass and escort them to the beach?” Emerie asked nervously, cracking her knuckles.

“Because we are already in the Night Court’s territory,” Viviane tried to reassure the female, her white hair glowing in the moonlight. “To go farther than this would be considered an invasion.”

“Eris is launching an invasion, why can’t we?” Emerie spoke as if she had not heard half of the Lady of the Winter court’s sentence.

“A false one,” Viviane did not lose her patience as she spoke. “One that is taking place on ship, therefore not encroaching on Rhysand’s borders. Stepping on the beach is easy to overlook, but heading into the Steppes would be an act of war. We have to be cautious.”

Emerie nodded, eyes clouded as she stopped pacing and sat down on a nearby log. You knew your friend’s greatest fear – that only a small group would have made it out of Illyria, leaving hundreds left behind for dead. You prayed that her fears would not come true.

The steady pounding in your head that had started an hour ago began to increase, and you groaned, swaying slightly. The light in your palms that guided the doe you had manifested with your magic and sent deep into the Illyrian Mountains dimmed slightly, but you quickly willed it to strengthen once again. Deep down, you felt thin and stretched from having to extend your magic so far for several hours.

“Are you okay?” Kallias asked, his white brows narrowing with concern. 

You nodded. “Magic is tiring… I haven’t kept it going for this long… ever…” Your voice grew strained and weak, all of your energy focused on keeping that white trail of light going. You hated that you couldn’t even tell if there was anyone following it. All you could do was hope that everyone had made it to the designated escape starting point on time.

“She will not last much longer,” Tarquin muttered to his fellow High Lord. “It may yet be another few hours until the group arrives. I expect we will see them around sunrise at this rate.”

You barely heard Kallias’s response, closing your eyes and taking another deep breath. You could feel Nesta trying to reach you through the mating bond, but didn’t have the energy to respond. You could tell she was already in the Day Court, having succeeded in aiding the escape from the Court of Nightmares. And you wanted to reassure her that you were fine, that all was going well. But you couldn’t. You were swimming in a sea of your own powerful magic, but your body was not equipped to handle the strain.

“Hey, stay with us.” Your eyes snapped open at Viviane’s voice. She had come to stand at your side along with Emerie, an arm around your waist steadily supporting your unstable figure. Her blue eyes were laced with concern and she took in your exhausted form and turned to her husband. “She won’t be able to hold out until sunrise.”

“I can do it…” You muttered, mustering as much determination into your voice as you could. 

“No, you cannot,” Kallias said sternly. “You are not used to wielding magic for this long of a period. It requires extreme focus, especially for something as complicated as this. And you’ve been at it for several hours already, it is taking its toll and sooner or later you will pass out from exhaustion.”

Guilt wracked you, and you fought off tears. You felt like a failure as you whispered, “I’m sorry…” 

“Do not be,” Viviane assured you gently. “This is not a simple matter of setting up a ward or a glamour and leaving it be. You’re guiding a strange new type of magic none of us have seen before through miles of terrain that is unknown to you. Give yourself a break.”

“I can’t… stop…” You protested, vision going in and out. 

“So don’t,” came Tarquin’s voice. “I’ll give you a boost.”

Beside you, Emerie frowned. “A boost?”

You heard stones shift as Tarquin stepped around the fire, coming to stand in front of you. “Yes,” he said. “I can channel some of my magic into her to keep her body strong enough.”

“That’s a thing?” Your Illyrian friend asked.

“It is rarely done, as it is difficult to do, but yes.” Came Tarquin’s reply. 

“Do it…” You spoke up weakly, every syllable dragging out like a heavy stone. All you wanted to do was collapse into a soft bed and sleep for a year. Kallias was right, you couldn’t do this on your own.

“I must warn you, it will feel strange,” Tarquin’s voice sounded, and you felt Viviane and Emerie step away as the High Lord of the Summer Court took your hand that was not glowing with a trail of magic. “My magic is very different from yours, and your first instinct may be to expel it. Refrain from resisting.”

You nodded, opening your eyes and looking up at Tarquin. He nodded, and his hand moved up to your wrist, clamping down. You rotated your arm slightly to do the same, taking a deep breath. The male began to emit a soft glow, the whites of his eyes seeming to brighten and give him an otherworldly quality.

Seconds later, you felt it.

Tarquin’s magic pushed into your body, and you gasped sharply. It was like a tidal wave was being slammed into you, a raging sea coursing through your veins. It felt the complete opposite of Nesta and Eris’s comforting fire, or your own light-filled power. 

Your entire body felt like a riptide, and you could practically taste the salty air of summer on your tongue as your bones vibrated with new magic. You willed yourself to relax, to accept the foreign power being pumped into you. As you did so, your limbs felt stronger. Exhaustion was chased away, and you were finally able to open your eyes. A thin, golden band of magic circled in figure eights between your attached hands, dancing and twisting around each other.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Tarquin.

He nodded. “We must remain linked for the magic to prevail. An hour should give your body enough time to recover and reset.”

With renewed energy, you felt the white light in your free palm glow brighter, urging the Illyrian females out of the mountains.

**********************

The sun was beginning to creep up five hours later, and Tarquin’s boost of magic had vanished a while ago. Viviane was now holding you up once again, your head droopy as you fought to keep that light strong. You felt it was close, which made it easier to hang on.

“They’re approaching,” You said through gasped breaths.

Emerie shot up from where she was sitting, the jerky she was chewing on falling to the ground. “You can feel them?” She asked eagerly.

“No,” you responded as Kallias, Tarquin, and the soldiers perked up. “But my magic feels close, and we have to assume that means they are close as well.”

Tarquin turned to one of his guards. “Winnow to the ships and tell Cresseida we are almost ready to receive the refugees.” He ordered, and the guard disappeared within seconds. 

The hope in Emerie’s eyes as she gazed into the Steppes rekindled some strength within you. You gently pushed yourself off of Viviane, taking a shaky step towards where Emerie was looking.

“What’s that?” Viviane asked, pointing to one of the rocky hills in the distance near the mountains. Both the High Lords joined her where she stood a few feet away from you and Emerie.

A faint, glowing white doe stood upon the hill. Stardust seemed to swirl around its feet as it leapt over the rocks bounding through the plains towards the beach. Everyone held their breath, silence filling the air.

“Come on…” Emerie muttered nervously.

Moments later, a set of wings appeared where the doe was – a female carrying a lit torch. She was so far away, even with your fae eyesight it was hard to tell for sure who it was. But then another one appeared beside her, slightly taller, carrying a large sac.

“Lift the glamour!” Viviane barked at Kallias, who snapped his fingers. The air shimmered for a second before clearing. The doe continued to bound toward you, getting fainter and fainter as you felt the last bit of energy you had controlling your magic slipping.

More and more sets of wings appeared over the rocky hill, the torches going from one to a hundred in minutes. Like an army ready for battle, hundreds and hundreds of winged females stepped down onto the plains. Emerie let out a choked sob from beside you.

“By the Mother…” Tarquin gasped softly. “They made it!”

“There’s so many of them…” Viviane said with awe as more and more torches and winged bodies funnelled out of the mountain pass. Sure enough, through your blurry and exhausted vision, you managed to make out the sight of a swarm of bodies stepping onto the flat stretch, shuffling towards the now glamour-free beach.

As they grew closer and guards scurried about with preparations, you breathed a sigh of relief. And then the world grew dark as you collapsed into Tarquin’s arms with exhaustion. 

**********************

An otherworldly headache pounded against your skull as you blinked open your eyes, the golden sunlight shining into your face too bright to handle. Your entire body felt heavy, like a stone at the bottom of the ocean.  When you groaned, a familiar hand brushed some hair out of your face.

“Why hello there,” came the familiar silky voice of Eris. 

With as much effort as you could, you pried your eyes open and blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. Eris was seated beside you, leaning against the frame of the bed you were laying in with a book in one hand. He donned a white shirt with a deep v-neck and loose sleeves, paired with light green trousers. His long red hair was braided back, a few strands framing his sharp face. He smiled gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” you mumbled, relaxing into his touch as he continued to stroke your face. “Where am I?”

“One of Helion’s quarters,” Eris said, bringing a cup of water to your lips and coaxing the liquid into your mouth. “You passed out right as the Illyrians arrived, and Tarquin brought you straight here.”

The Illyrians.

You sat up abruptly, ignoring the protest of your tired body. “They made it? The ships got them here safely?”

Eris smiled, nodding. “Yes, my dear. All eight thousand of them.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Eight thousand? How many came from the Hewn City?”

“Five thousand, as to be expected. Many families had already made it to Velaris safely, so there were not as many females as in Illyria left behind.”

The room spun around you with shock. The white marble bookcases across from your bed seemed to sway, and you shook your head. “Wow,” was all you could murmur.

Eris gently pulled you against his chest, kissing your head. “Wow, indeed. I am so proud of you, my dear. You’ve saved the lives of thirteen thousand females today. They know what you did for them, and Nesta has had to practically barricade your door to keep them from barging in here to thank you.”

“Where is Nesta?” You asked.

“She will be here in a few minutes,” Eris replied. “You began to stir half an hour ago, so I sent word to her. She was with the other High Lords helping crunch numbers for which courts are taking which females.”

You sighed with content, the warmth of Eris’s body relaxing you. You turned on your side, wrapping an arm around him and snuggling closer to your mate. “I can’t believe we pulled that off,” you murmured.

Eris cocked his head, setting his book aside on the table. “Why? It was a good plan, and we thought through every possible scenario to ensure its success.”

“How did negotiations with Rhys go?”

Your husband let out a sharp laugh. “Seeing Rhysie is always such a treat,” he chuckled. “He fell for the bait quite easily. We waited for half a day in our ships before the Illyrians descended from the skies and the Darkbringers appeared on the shoreline, all ready for a battle that would not happen. I demanded an audience, and Rhys complied. I talked his ear off for a few hours, and let him whine about the supposed unfairness of all this. It got painfully dull after a while, but I found out something very interesting…”

You perked up, peering up at the male who had a smug look on his face. “What?”

“Rhysand broke his bargain with Koschei. After the baby was born, he travelled to the depths of the lake in which the Death God dwells and declared his intentions to not hold up his end. There was a price to be paid, of course, one I find very symbolic.

“Rhys has relinquished almost all of his power to Koschei. His magic was ripped out of him and fed to the beasts beneath the lake floors like a bone to a dog. He was left with the bare minimum to keep Velaris safe enough, but that’s it. Furthermore, he is required to visit Koschei once a month for a week – a mirror of that very same bargain he made with dear Feyre over a year ago. By doing so, he guaranteed Koschei will not go after Nesta, not with a new plaything at his disposal.”

Your jaw went slack. “Rhys… lost his powers?” You repeated in shock.

Eris didn’t even bother trying to refrain his smile from widening. “Yes. I think it’s justice, personally. I cannot say I feel bad for him in the slightest. It also seems Feyre told him that in the process of breaking the bargain, he had to find a way to keep Nesta alive as well. For all his faults, he will do whatever Feyre asks of him at this point. That is a blessing for us.”

You exhaled shakily. Rhys was one of the most powerful High Lords, now diminished to a regular High Fae male in a small city. There would be no gaining control of Illyria and the Hewn City now with this loss of power, you realised. “I can’t believe this…” You said, still rattled with shock.

Eris rubbed your shoulder. “Anywho, once he told me that story we made some reassurances to each other. Me and Tamlin’s ships departed slowly, giving the armies more time to linger and make sure we had left before returning home to find almost half of their population gone. The distraction worked perfectly, I am sure they are in a tizzy about it as we speak.”

Before you could answer, the door to your guest chambers swung open to reveal Nesta. Her hair was in a singular braid, hanging across her shoulder. She wore a shining gold dress that was carefully draped over one shoulder, the fabric hanging loosely across her chest. Your eyes popped open, and Eris laughed beside you.

“I have never seen you wear something like this before,” he chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Nesta closed the door behind her and came over to sit on your other side. “Oh, please,” she snapped. “Helion picked it out personally. I couldn’t not wear it, it’s his court after all.”

“I’m not complaining,” you insisted as Nesta gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“He is a relentless flirt,” Eris said, amused. “But one with good taste.”

You sighed as Nesta rubbed your back, despite her death glare she sent at Eris. The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, happy to be back in each other’s company. With your mates by your side, the weariness you had felt began to diminish. 

“I want to see the females,” you said. “I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“Emerie is taking good care of them and the dragons are guarding the borders,” Nesta said gently. “You need to rest.”

You shook your head, sitting up and peeling the soft duvet off. You crawled over Eris’s legs, unsteadily placing your feet on the white marble ground. 

“Take it easy,” Eris chided, holding your elbow. “Your body is exhausted. You can see them tomorrow.”

“No,” you said sharply, standing up like a newborn deer and heading over to the closet in the corner. “After everything we’ve done to see this through, I need to see them with my own eyes.”

Nesta and Eris exchanged a glance, but didn’t protest. You ignored them and grabbed the white dress Helion had hung up in there for you, peeling off your nightgown. You pulled the soft fabric on, tying the gold belt around your waist. “Where are they staying right now?” You asked.

“Many are in the main hall,” Eris replied, standing up. “Others are in temporary camps set up across the fields. I believe those residing in the main hall are currently at dinner.”

“Great,” you said, holding out your hand. “Take me there, please.”

“As you wish,” Nesta said, taking your other arm while Eris grasped your extended hand. 

After ten minutes of meandering through Helion’s royal hallways, you came to the dinner room, passing through the white columns at the entrance. 

Your jaw nearly dropped. Hundreds of females sat at tables or on comfortable floor mats, hearty soups in hand as they chatted quietly amongst themselves. A group of musicians played in the corner, the gentle tune echoing in the grand chamber. Dozens of eyes turned towards you as Eris and Nesta led you through the crowd towards the table at the front, where Emerie, Tamlin, Lucien, Helion, Thesan, Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Viviane were seated. Gwyn and Azriel sat at the end, partially hidden in the shadows. When your friend saw you, she smiled brightly and waved. You breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her safe after everything she had done.

Lucien stood up, coming around the front of the table to greet you. His eye gleamed with pride as he opened his arms. “Come here, you,” he said cheerfully.

Peeling away from your mates, you lept into Lucien’s arms, hugging him tightly. Your friend chuckled, squeezing you reassuringly. “Glad you made it out okay,” he said.

“You too,” you replied, pulling away and smiling at him. “We did it. We really did it.”

“I told you, you’d make a good High Lady,” came a familiar gruff voice. Tamlin had risen as well, approaching behind Lucien and offering you a small smile. “We are all very proud.”

“Thank you, Tam.” You said gratefully. His large hand patted you on the back before returning to his place at the table. 

Nesta gently grabbed your hand. “Come, you must eat.” She guided you towards one of the three empty chairs at the centre of the long table. It was covered in various fruits, roasted vegetables with sauces, and about ten different kinds of meat. Your mouth watered as you realised how hungry you were.

On the way, you stopped beside Gwyn and Azriel, leaning down to hug your friend. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” you murmured into Gwyn’s shoulder.

“Ye of little faith,” she said sarcastically “I was fine. All I did was chat up some priestesses, they were the ones who mostly spread the word. I was safe and sound.”

You pulled away. “Come join us at our end of the table!”

The priestess shook her head. “I’m okay here, it’s too crowded over there.”

“You mean you want to just sit here and ogle Azriel,” Nesta singsonged with a gleam in her eyes.

Gwyn’s face went red, and to your surprise, Azriel flushed slightly as well. “Shut the fuck up,” she snapped at Nesta playfully, shifting in her seat.

“It’s okay, Gwyn,” Eris piped up, winking at the shadowsinger, who seemed like he wanted to bury himself alive. “He is quite pretty to look at. But should you change your mind and like to join us, let us know.”

You laughed, Gwyn’s muttering and cussing you out as you, Nesta, and Eris took your seats at the table. As you dove into the plate of food in front of you, you tuned into the lively sounds of the room while Nesta and Eris began chatting with Helion. 

Many of the females kept glancing at you, some offering smiles or nods before returning to their company. Some were huddled in the corner, eyes wary as they consistently scanned their surroundings. You wondered how many females had similar stories to Emerie, or to Morrigan. How many had suffered for years and accepted it because they believed that is how things would always be? How many had been spared future suffering because of their escape?

As you downed your goblet of wine, you reminisced on that day in the House of Wind last year when you had first started your plan to flee the Night Court and seek revenge on its leaders. Never did you think that it would go this far, that you would accomplish this much. All you had wanted was to be free and be able to make your own choices. And now it led to seeking that same outcome for thousands of others.

Rhys could never hurt you again. Those painful images of that cruel, dark mist lashing your bare skin over and over again would fade into distant memory eventually, with no fear of it ever happening again. He couldn’t lock you or Nesta up, or threaten you. No, you both had more power than him now by a long measure. You were finally free from his grasp.

A year ago you had been angry at Feyre, too. Part of you still was, and delighted in the karmic justice of destroying part of her court in retribution. But you hoped for her sake, that she would accept the help offered in the letter Nesta had planned to send. For a moment, you wondered if Feyre would still be who she was now if she hadn’t met Rhys.

“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked you, leaving Nesta to argue with Helion herself.

His amber eyes were soft and kind, the cruel mask that he had plastered on for so many centuries cracked and slipped away. The world could see Eris for who he truly was not, not just as Beron’s firstborn son. 

You smiled. “How I can’t wait for everything here to be sorted so we can go home.”

“Me too, my dear, me too.” He squeezed your hand and surveyed the room again. “You have accomplished what many in the likes of my father deemed impossible. Now even the most stubborn fae realise that things can change fast if they will it so. That is a very good thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

The road ahead would not be without challenge. Settling thirteen thousand females into six courts would be a process, and there would surely be setbacks along the way. But after a year of being tortured, beaten, sneaking around and scheming, you were ready for some normal problems.

“Eris?” You said.

He turned to face you once again. “Yes?”

“I love you. And thank you, for everything you’ve done. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t agreed to help me last year.”

The High Lord of the Autumn Court laughed, kissing your cheek gently. “It is I who should be thanking you. Both of you. You freed me from the prison of my old life. And not just me, but thousands of others. I intend on spending eternity thanking you for it.”

So you laced one hand in Eris’s, and the other in Nesta’s as they both looked at you with so much love in their eyes you were sure you would explode. As much as you liked the Day Court, you yearned to be back in Autumn where you belonged, under the bright trees and wandering the forest paths. As if echoing your thoughts, Zôrzimril’s call echoed on the wind like an ancient song.

And so the yellow rays of sunshine morphed into orange and red, and the sun began to set. You felt a faint brush of a hand on your shoulder, and a familiar, ethereal voice sounded in your ear barely above a whisper.

Well done, my child.

As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains, the echoing voice faded with it. 

READER POV

TWO WEEKS LATER

Your stomach churned as if readying to unload what little breakfast you had eaten all over your skirts. The room seemed too small, too tight, bustling with servants whose sole focus was on getting you ready. The air was thick, choking your throat as you tried to breathe deeply. No matter how hard you tried, your lungs would not expand fully. The chattering voices of the servants, who were once silent shadows working under the dark cloud of Beron Vanserra’s rule, was drowned out amidst the noise in your brain.

Desperately fanning your face, you were lightly scolded by a young servant with bright red hair brushing out your eyebrows. “Don’t do that, my Lady!” She chided gently. “You’ll ruin my masterpiece!”

“Sorry…” You muttered, forcing your hands back to your sides. It had been a long time since you had worn a full face of makeup, and you had missed it greatly. The redhead servant had lined your eyes with kohl, smudging out brown and gold shadows on your lids. Your cheeks had been blushed and bronzed to perfection, and a thin, nude sheen across your lips. 

At your apology, she looked shocked for a moment before the tenseness left her shoulders and she relaxed. Your heart ached for her, and for everyone who had worked for the past few centuries under Beron. His harsh rule would be a wound that only time would heal for many. It was evident in the behaviour of everyone in the palace – the surprise when simple mistakes were brushed off after an apology rather than a lashing, the rising warmth of the atmosphere in the palace that had once been silent and cold. Sure, Eris still ruled firmly and it would take a while for everyone to realise he was not his father. But little by little, the icy walls of the Autumn Court were beginning to thaw.

“Wedding nerves, I guess.” You said casually as a set of dangly gold earrings were placed on your ears. Never before had you had this many sets of hands tending to you. A tall male was carefully working on your hair, twisting a loose braid across the back of your head and artfully arranging the rest of your loose hair. Several times, you had attempted to sneak a glance in the mirror to see the full look, but too many servants stood in the way.

“It is certainly a big day for you, my Lady.” The redhead servant agreed, finishing the final touches on your face. Her hands were soft and delicate, light as feathers as she blended any smudges her expert eyes sought out. “An unusual event for the court, too.”

You tensed slightly. “I know it’s not your typical wedding or anything–” you began. But her soft chuckle interrupted you.

“Forgive me,” she said softly. “I did not mean for it to come across that way. It is a new beginning for everyone, and this place could do with some change. The only ones who have an issue with your marriage and title are the old courtiers and males stuck in their ways. But us servants do not share those beliefs. You have our support, my Lady.”

Your heart warmed at her kind and open words, and a smile found its way across your face. “What is your name?” You asked.

“Adelaide, my Lady.”

You gently grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Adelaide.”

Adelaide smiled, dipping her head respectfully before grabbing her supplies and beginning the cleanup process. As the busy hands of the servants began to slow, you realised that the moment was approaching faster and faster with each moment. Finally, you took a deep breath, and when the servants retreated their hands for a moment, you shifted to face the large mirror across from you.

Awe filled you as you took in their work. Your hair was styled beautifully, leaving only a few soft strands framing your face while the rest curled down behind your shoulders. Your eyes were striking, the various jewellery you donned designed to match beautifully. Tears welled in your eyes as you finally drank in the sight of your dress. The soft white fabric had red roses and vines embroidered on the bottom of the skirts as well as the bodice. The sleeves were loose, gathering around your wrists in just the right way. The neckline was a modest V shape, complimenting the emerald necklace sat on your chest. For just a moment, your heart ached knowing your mother would never get to see you married. It made more tears well up.

“Now, now, what did I say about ruining my masterpiece?” Adelaide chided, taking a cloth and dabbing under your eyes to catch any stray tears.

“Sorry,” You winced, forcing your tears back. “You guys have done an amazing job. Thank you, all of you.”

The servants grinned proudly at each other, bowing their heads as they cleaned up at the speed of light. “Your escort should be here shortly to walk you down the aisle.” The male servant who had done your hair said. And then just like that, they were gone. Leaving you with your own thoughts.

Your heart was racing. After all these weeks of planning, it was finally here. You weren’t sure why you were nervous – you loved Nesta and Eris. This wedding, this moment of time, was everything you had worked for and more since your arrival in the Night Court. Every sacrifice, every hard choice, had all led to this day. Yet it hardly felt real, even as you stood in your wedding dress, staring in the mirror in awe of your reflection. Countless hours had been spent helping the staff decorate, tasting hundreds of food samples for the menu, sitting bored out of your mind with Nesta and Eris at various meetings regarding not just the wedding, but the official crowning ceremony as well. All of that led to this very moment. And you were sure you were going to vomit.

Thankfully, a familiar voice sounded in your head, halting your rising stomach juices. Please don’t throw up on your dress, I can feel your nerves from here. Nesta scolded. At the sound of her voice, you felt yourself relaxing a bit.

I make no promises, you replied. How are you so composed right now? I’m freaking out.

She snorted. I can tell. Are you forgetting I spent practically a decade training for this thanks to mother dearest?

Right. How could I possibly forget that?

You’ll be fine. We’ve made it this far, a wedding is nothing.

I wish I could see you right now.

Soon enough, love. Just wanted to check in. I’ll see you at the altar.

Ok. I love you.

I love you, too.

Your heart sung at her words. Hearing Nesta say she loved you was like listening to the most beautiful song you had ever heard, one you would never get tired of. The three of you had agreed to keep dresses a secret, saving the big reveal for the aisle. You were itching to simply run out of the room and seek out Nesta and Eris, desperately wanting to see them before the wedding. 

A knock at the door interrupted your urges, and you shook your nerves off as the wood swung open to reveal Lucien. Your jaw dropped as your friend entered the room dressed in heavy green robes with gold accents and a long cloak. His hair was intricately braided back, accenting his chiselled, handsome, face. Lucien smirked at your reaction. “I know, I look hot.” He said, chuckling. 

“This is the fanciest I’ve ever seen you dress.” You scoffed.

“Take it all in now, honey. Because it won’t happen again.”

You rolled your eyes. “As High Lady I order you to dress this nicely more often.”

Lucien let out a laugh. “I will defect to Winter Court if this new title keeps inflating your big head like this.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling at this point. A comfortable silence settled over you and your best friend as Lucien looked you up and down. His voice was full of wonder as he spoke. “You look amazing. Truly.”

“Thank you, Lucien.” You said as you smoothed your skirts. The room began to feel stifling again as you realised he was here because it was time to walk down the aisle to Nesta and Eris. “Oh gods, it’s time, isn’t it?”

Lucien nodded, extending his arm towards you. “Yes. As much as it’s fun to see you freak out over your own wedding, it’s time to get it together. Your partners are waiting.”

You took one last glance in the mirror to make sure nothing was amiss before stepping off the pedestal with shaky legs, grabbing onto your friend’s arm. “Lucien?” You said tentatively, your voice sounding far away as you tried to calm your breathing. “Don’t let me fall.”

Lucien’s voice was gentle. “Never,” he assured you. So you clung onto his arm, willing strength into your body as you lifted your chin and followed him out of the room.

 *********************

NESTA POV

Nesta steadied her breathing, thankful she had put on a brave face for you during your brief exchange. Truthfully, she was just as much of a wreck as you were. True, her mother had spent years priming her for marriage, but this was not what Mrs. Archeron had had in mind for her eldest daughter. For a split second, Nesta contemplated laughing at the image of her mother’s face as she looked up at the from Hell, crying out in horror at Nesta marrying two faeries, one of whom being a female. It would turn her in her grave for sure.

The servants that had scurried away a few moments ago, leaving Nesta with a few blissful minutes of peace before a guard would come to fetch her for her entrance. You and Eris had pressed if she was really okay walking down the aisle herself, considering you had Lucien and it was custom for Eris to walk alone. She had shook off the concerns, insisting she was more than capable of doing it herself.

But looking in the mirror at her red lined lips, beautifully coronet braided hair, and satin dress with a straight neckline, long sleeves, and gold detailing, she couldn’t help but feel like a child again. A little girl who wanted her mom and dad to hold her hand and tell her they were there for her. Not that either of her parents ever had, and for years Nesta convinced herself she didn’t care. She thought she was loved by them at first, too young to know that some types of love could be bad. And then she became tied to her mother, a moth trapped in the twisted spider web of a cunning woman’s plans to groom her young daughter to please men that rivalled her father in age. Her father had let this happen, not once standing up for her or pushing back on her mother’s harsh disciplining. Just like Cassian had with Rhysand.

Nesta shivered, as if shaking off the mere sound of Cassian’s name in her mind and pushing it as far away as possible. The Illyrian general was aware of the wedding most likely, as formal invitations had been sent out to all of the courts. At first, Nesta and you had pushed back against the Night Court being invited. “As much as I do not want them near us, I cannot do that,” Eris had begrudgingly told them. “It is customary for all court leaders to come and bend the knee to the new ruler, or rulers in our case. If they do not, it will tip the already shakey diplomacy scales within Prythian. But fear not, I added a personal note to their invite saying they were expected to come after the wedding ceremony. They will sneak in as we begin the crowning and acknowledge our leadership and then leave. They will not be here long.”

No reply was received, but Nesta knew some of the Inner Circle would be coming. Feyre was likely too pregnant and too ill to attend, and there was no way Mor would be talked into attending, much to Nesta’s relief. Rhys would have to attend, as would Amren. She had no idea as to what Azriel was currently doing, but her stomach churned at the possibility of Cassian and Elain being there. She prayed that they would elect to stay home. Nevertheless, Eris had assured her the dragons would be there behind the throne as they had been upon the wedding announcement, ready to intervene if needed.

As the clock ticked, Nesta felt those hateful thoughts swimming to the surface again. They had quieted in the past few weeks, letting her have peace from her own self hatred. But doubt began to fill her, and suddenly her dress was stifling. 

She did not deserve to marry you, or Eris. Nesta was not worthy of your kindness and strength, nor Eris’s help and protection. Cassian had always mocked her for expecting to marry a prince, and not a low born bastard like him. But perhaps she did belong with someone who merely echoed the hateful things her own mind said to her.

Nesta wrung her hands together, practising her mind stilling as her thoughts threatened to consume her. But a gentle knock on the door broke her trance, and she straightened her back and smoothed out her skirts. After making sure she was composed, she said firmly, “Enter.”

It was not a guard who opened the door, but the familiar face of Lirilla. Her wavy auburn hair had been decorated with golden bits of hair jewellery, a red ribbon woven into the long braid that went down the back of her head. Her eyes were bright, her once skinny-figure now more filled out into the beautiful green gown she wore. “Hello, Nesta.” She said, closing the door behind her.

Nesta’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Is something wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be at the ceremony right now?”

Lirilla shook her head. “Everything is okay, my dear. But I come bearing an offer. One that you do not have to take, but I would be honoured if you did.”

Nesta cocked her head, but nodded for Lirilla to go on. “My son mentioned you were walking down the aisle alone, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Nesta said tightly. “I have no family here to give me away, so I will walk by myself.”

Lirilla took Nesta’s hand, rubbing gentle circles along her palm. “Forgive me if I am overstepping, but Eris tells me your relationship with your father was nonexistent, and your mother unpleasant. He said nothing more, but I also know that you were once human. And difficult parents or not, being given away at the altar is a common practice in the mortal lands. Am I correct to assume that?”

Nesta nodded stiffly, forcing the lump in her throat back down. No matter how many walls she put up, Lirilla could see right through her. “You know, I have always wanted a daughter who I could walk down the aisle.” The Lady of Autumn continued. “I understand you claim to be confident in walking yourself to the altar, but I know there must be some part of you clinging to that tradition from your old life. I would love to give you away, if you will have me.”

Nesta was glad she was not wearing heavy eye makeup, because a single tear escaped down her cheek. “I would like that very much.” She said through a choked voice. A mother’s love was something so foreign to her. All she knew of it was a twisted, cruel version that could not be considered any type of love. But the kindness in Lirilla’s face filled that void inside of her that her own mother left.

“Then let us get on with it.”

Nesta happily took her arm, allowing Eris’s mother to lead her from her room of solitude and towards the throne room. The closer they got to the large doors, the more the buzzing liveliness of the ceremony began to seep into her bones. She could feel the energy, the excitement of not only her mates, but the crowd as well. The stream of music began to fade as they reached the door, Lirilla nodding to the guards who spoke in whispers. She turned back towards Nesta as silence overcame the hall. “It is time,” She said softly.

Nodding, Nesta clenched tighter around Lirilla’s arm. It seemed like an eternity of waiting encapsulated in mere seconds as she waited for her cue. She took deep breaths, taking comfort in that bond within her that glowed with the presence of her mates.

Finally, the soft whistle of a flute rang from behind the doors, the start of the entrance music. She counted the seconds in her head, and after the 53rd second mark, the doors opened and she stepped through them.

A crowd far bigger than she had expected stood up. Candles and red, green, and gold flowers lined the aisle, similar decorations scattered across the throne room from every lamp, chair, and table. But Nesta did not look at the people, nor their dragons standing proudly behind the three thrones, their heads arching in through the open space. Her gaze was focused on the male at the altar underneath the archway of branches.

Eris was dressed in the most elaborate set of robes Nesta had ever seen. Gold and red draped his shoulders, a green cloak flowing behind him. A long sword rested on his hip, and a crown of gold sat atop his red hair. Her breath hitched in her chest at the sight of this male, her mate who had done so much to help her escape her prison in the Night Court. She almost stopped walking, but a gentle squeeze on her arm told her to keep going. She felt all eyes on her as she made her way towards the altar, but they were like whispers in the wind fading behind her, nonexistent as she focused on the male ahead of her. The soft music rang in her ears, a beautiful blend of notes that captured every emotion in her chest.

When she came to the end, Lirilla released her arm, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before taking her seat in the front row. Nesta could barely breathe, barely move as Eris stood mere inches away. Eris smiled softly, his eyes tender as he took in the sight of her wedding dress. He extended his hand, which Nesta gladly took. His warm skin on hers brought her back to reality, snapping her out of her trance. He guided her up to take his place on his left side, just as they had practised.

With one last longing look at each other, Nesta and Eris turned to face the crowd, hands joined as they waited for you. 

 *********************

READER POV

Right on time, the guard nodded to Lucien as you rounded the corner, signalling that Nesta had taken her place at the altar and it was your turn. The tune shifted slightly, and you knew it was the two minute and forty second mark you had memorised as your cue. With one last reassuring smile from Lucien, you stepped through the open doors and into the throne room.

Your entire body was both numb and on fire as you took your first steps on the aisle. Never before had you been so grateful for Lucien holding you, for you would surely collapse without his support. You ignored the hundreds of eyes that studied you as you approached Nesta and Eris at the altar, their dragons behind them in the distance. Zorzîmril purred as she saw you, and your lips twitched with a laugh as a few guests flinched at the sound. The tune of the music carried you down the aisle, and with each step you took towards your mates the more confidence you felt. Everything you had done to escape the Night Court had been worth it, and this outcome was far better than anything you could have dreamed of.

Finally, you reached the end of your journey. Lucien bowed his head and kissed your hand before taking his place in the empty seat beside his mother. Your eyes pricked with tears as you drank in the beauty of your mates, from Eris’s elaborate robes to Nesta’s simple yet elegant gown. They looked perfect, and you were relieved that you had not seen them before the ceremony for you surely would have collapsed.

You took Eris’s extended hand, positioning yourself on his right side. After scanning the subjects before you per Eris’s prior instructions, the three of you turned towards each other, Eris stepping back slightly so a triangle could be formed and allow you to hold each other’s hand.

Behind you, a priestess stepped up under the archway, her blue robes shining in the light of the sunset behind her. When you snuck a glance at her out of the corner of your eye and saw familiar red hair and teal eyes, your eyes shot open.

The priestess was Gwyn.

You baulked, surprise evident on Nesta’s face as well momentarily. Eris simply winked, and you bit your tongue to refrain from scolding him for all these surprises. You snuck a glance at Gwyn in shock, and she simply let out a smug smile before composing herself and lifting her chin to address the crowd. A squeeze from Eris’s hand urged you to compose yourself as well.

“Citizens of the Autumn Court,” Gwyn’s voice rang clear and strong through the throne room, and pride swelled in your chest. When you had first met Gwyn, she had refused to leave the library. For her to do something like this for you and Nesta was a testament to the nymph’s bravery. “We are gathered here today to witness the marriage between Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court, and Lady Nesta Archeron, and Lady (Y/N) Dreamfyre.”

You felt Nesta almost go giddy with excitement, and you squeezed her hand. You hadn’t heard your last name in ages, and now it was about to change entirely. It was bittersweet – a farewell to your old life, and the start of a new one.

“It is a day that marks a new era for the Autumn Court,” Gwyn continued. “One that marks the reign of a High Lord alongside two High Ladies. May the Mother bless this day and send good fortune to all within the realm. In the sight of the Mother, I hereby see you these three souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words as you bind yourselves in magic.”

In unison, you, Nesta, and Eris all spoke the words you had memorised weeks ago. Words that would be sacred on your lips, a seal of the promises you made to each other. “I am yours and you are mine from this day until the stars collide and eternity comes to an end.” From Eris’s palms, an orange flame emerged, curling around your left wrist and Nesta’s right. It was soft and warm against your skin, flickering gently. A silver flame from Nesta found your other hand, wrapping into it and Eris’s as well. It was colder, like the soothing waters of a creek. You took a deep breath, summoning the power of life within you that you had been practising for the last few weeks. 

Bright white light emerged from your palms, tinted with flicks of blue as it eagerly wound itself with Eris’s flames in your left hand and Nesta’s in your right. So the three of you stood, magic entwining and singing a celestial song. Life, death, and fire mixed together, purring against your skin as it hummed. On your ring fingers on both hands, a small tattoo appeared. It was a delicate vine with leaves, wrapping around the finger like a ring. The same appeared on Nesta and Eris’s fingers – a symbol of your marriage, one that could never get lost or fade. 

As the light of your entwined magic faded, your throat was thick with emotion as you gazed between Nesta and Eris with nothing but love. Gwyn’s voice continued proudly. “It is time for the exchange of vows, which have been written personally by each of the individuals before me. May you speak these words honest and true in the light of the Mother.” With that, the priestess stepped back slightly, giving Eris a nod before shooting you and Nesta a wink.

Eris cleared his throat. “Many males may envy me, for I have the two most beautiful brides in Prythian before me,” He began. “It is a dream of many to marry the perfect partner, a dream that most people are not fortunate enough to achieve. I am blessed to have not one, but two partners and achieve this dream. But Nesta, (Y/N), you are not just my brides. You are my mates, my equals, the force that binds me to this world and allows me to open my heart up.”

Eris turned towards you, amber eyes glowing with pride as he spoke. “(Y/N), you have a strength that rivals the foundations of the earth. Your selflessness and resilience through hard times is something I intend on admiring until the end of my days. You make this world a better place, your presence is like the sunlight that emerges over the mountains on the morning of winter’s chill. I am honoured to have you as my mate, and I will love you until the end of time itself.”

You could no longer hold back the tears that now flowed down your cheeks. Eris was staring at you with such intensity you felt like you were going to burst into flames right there and then. Long gone was the cold mask of indifference that he had sewn onto his face to survive in the harsh reality of Beron’s court. Everyone in the room could see his vulnerability, his love, how he was willing to open up that part of himself for the world to see.

Eris then turned to the other female beside you. “Nesta, you are as wild and untamable as the sea. A force of nature with a determination that inspires me to make change happen in a world that pushes against you. You have been through so much toil and conquered everything in your path, and you have my utmost respect and admiration. I am honoured that you have trusted me on this path.”

You saw Nesta’s face tight as she tried to conceal her emotions. Her lips stretched into a smile, her eyes giving everything away. You took in a deep breath, knowing it was your turn next. The words had been rehearsed in your head for days, playing in your head on a loop. Normally you hated speaking in public, and the thought of talking about your feelings in front of such a large crowd. But it all fell away in the background, and you spoke confidently. “Nesta, I don’t know how I would have gotten through these last few months without you,” you said to her. “You have been my rock ever since I met you, and within the first few weeks of our time together I knew we would blaze through this world like a wildfire. You are strong, you are smart, and I will love you until there is nothing of me left.

“Eris, you have proved yourself to be the most selfless male I have ever met. I love your witty remarks, your sharp mind that is never still for a moment, always conjuring up various ideas and schemes. I love you, and I cannot wait to begin this new chapter with both of you by my side.”

They gently squeezed your hands, the action sending a warm sensation down the bond. The dragons cooed gently from behind you, the rumble echoing throughout the vast chamber. Beside you, Nesta took a deep breath. It wasn’t a secret that she was the most nervous of the three of you to speak her vows. It was difficult for her to say how she feels even with just the two of you, let alone in front of an audience.

But her voice was strong as she spoke, no hint of hesitance of nervousness. “Eris,” She began, her grey eyes meeting the High Lord’s amber ones. “When we first met, one of the things you told me was ‘like calls to like’. I thought that you were simply referring to our powers, but I now realise that it reflects our relationship as well. You match me in mind and soul, and I owe you a debt I can never repay. Both of you.” Nesta turned her blue-grey eyes towards you. “(Y/N), you saved my life. You picked me up when I was at my lowest point, you helped me turn things around. You showed me that life was worth living and gave me the strength I needed. I love you, and my life would not be the same without you.”

Tears swam in her eyes, making you choke up. You glanced at Lucien in the crowd, who was looking at you both with pride in his eyes. Beside him, Lirilla was dabbing at her wet eyes with a cloth. 

“In the name of the Mother, by the power vested in me, I declare you wed.” Gwyn said proudly, voice ringing out clear as day. “Citizens of the Autumn Court, I present to you: Eris Vanserra, Nesta Vanserra, and (Y/N) Vanserra.”

Cheers arose from the crowd, filling you with happiness. Initially, you had expected a strained crowd, filled with disapproving whispers. But if they existed, they were easily drowned out. Leaves fell softly from the ceiling like confetti, and the dragons roared as one. Eris pulled your hands, and the three of you pressed your foreheads together. You were all grinning happily, and the High Lord stepped back for a moment and you pulled Nesta in for a kiss. Her soft hands cupped your cheeks as yours rested on her waist, her lips pressing sweetly into yours as the crowds cheering continued. It was a brief kiss, but passionate nonetheless. Your heart sang as Eris kissed you next, his slender fingers lifting your chin up to meet his mouth. Your insides melted at the pure love pouring from both kisses, mind spinning as you stepped back while Eris moved to Nesta and kissed her in the same manner.

Scanning the crowd, you say a sea of happy faces. It seemed even those who had sneered weeks before had either come around, or learned quickly to put on a happy face. But something tugged at you, urging you to look further. And then you saw them.

At the back of the crowd stood Rhysand, Amren, Azriel, Cassian, and Elain.

Your jaw hit the floor as you entered the unfamiliar room. Against the wall to your left was the biggest four poster bed you had ever seen, enough to fit at least 4 people with room for limbs to be spread but not touching. It was covered in a thick green blanket, with cream pillows and a knitted throw at the base. Almost-sheer gold curtains were wrapped from the top frame of the bed posters, held back by brass loops. There was a large, arching wall of flowers and branches surrounding a shelf behind the bed’s headboard. A few trinkets had already been strewn across the shelves – books, jewellery, a knife, all objects you had seen Eris possess. The floor was dark wood and elegant, with a large, red rug in front of the bed, offset by the most comfortable-looking, plushy chairs and couch you had ever seen. 

But what caught your eye the most was the expertly carved cinquefoil arches and pillars on the other side of the room that lead to a balcony. There were no windows between the pillars, but the room remained devoid of the chill of the night air. It was spelled, judging by the thin sheen of magic between the spaces. You couldn’t see the view at this hour, but you knew it would take your breath away.

Angling your head in amazement, you noticed two open doors on the right side. One led to what looked like a massive walk-in closet, while the other led to the bathroom. You followed the second door, peering in to see the largest bathing room you had ever seen. An enormous tub was carved into the floor at one end, a small fountain spurting from one end with dragon’s heads carved into it. Across from the tub was a spacious shower, with various faucets and shower heads at all angles and three shelves with different soaps and oils on them. Amazed, you stepped back into the main bedroom, too stunned to speak.

“So,” Eris smirked, sauntering up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. “What do you think, my love?”

Slack-jawed, you couldn’t find the words for a moment. You glanced at Nesta, who had come up beside you. Her eyes were wide, her soft lips parted ever so slightly in wonder. Everything in this room was perfect, down to the last detail. “Is this…” You tried to speak but your voice trailed off.

“Our room.” Nesta finished your sentence for you, her voice filled with awe.

You asked, “wait, did you know?”

Eris squeezed your sides gently. “She knew this was going to be my gift to you both. Unfortunately I had to tell her, as I needed her input in the construction of the shower. But this is the first time you have both seen it. It was originally a storage room, but I had it redone and it has been worked on for the past two months.”

You baulked. “Eris, I…” Once again, your voice trailed off. The scale of the room, the attention to detail, everything was specifically designed for you, Eris, and Nesta to live together without feeling cramped. Eris had done all of this for you, for Nesta. Even during those dark days where it seemed everything had gone awry, he had kept hope aflame with the building of this room. “I don’t even know what to say, this is incredible.”

Eris chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder and letting his lips graze your ear as he murmured, “You don’t have to say anything. You both deserve it, and I am beyond thrilled that I have the honour of spoiling you like this. It is the least I can do, and it is just one of many endless ways I intend on proving my devotion.”

Instantly, your blood heated at the sensation and you let out a breath. You shivered slightly, face flushing at having your mate’s lips so close to your neck. The action did not go unnoticed. Nesta turned her head towards you, pupils widening with lust at the breath that escaped your lips. Eris simply moved even closer, his fingers stretching up your ribs ever so slightly. Even through the thick fabric of your wedding dress, your skin tingled where his fingers brushed and you sucked in a breath.

“My, my,” Nesta cooed, cocking her head and surveying you up and down like a dragon staring at her prey. The way her head tilted slowly, eyes aflame and each movement possessing a serpent-like quality reminded you of Athariel’s mannerisms – rider and beast, slowly morphing into a unified being. “Somebody is flustered easily.”

“That’s good,” Eris said smoothly, his voice like silk. “It means she listened when I told her she had to wait until the night of the wedding for her desires to be satisfied.”

“You really think I had time for any of that amidst the wedding chaos?” You tried to snap back, but your voice was breathy and weak. All you could think about was Eris’s hands on your sides and Nesta’s blue-grey eyes sizing you up. Your heart thumped louder in your chest as you realised your fantasies were going to be brought to fruition. All those weeks of having to suppress your urges were finally at an end. The sensation of your mates’ desire through the mating bond was almost overwhelming, igniting every nerve in your body.

Eris dragged his lips up and down the side of your neck, chuckling darkly at the shudder your body involuntarily made at the sensation. “Fair enough, we have been rather busy, haven’t we? I’m surprised you’ve made it this long.”

Nesta gracefully took a step closer to you, her rich, warm scent enveloping your senses as she gently removed the crown from your head, setting it down on the dresser a few feet away. “Oh please, take what Eris says with a grain of salt,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s been struggling to hold back just as much as we have. He’s desperate too.”

The High Lord paused his movements along your neck, amber eyes narrowing at her. “Careful, Nesta.” He purred. “I had planned on being generous to my mates tonight, I’d hate for it to turn into an evening of punishment and teaching that smart mouth of yours a lesson.”

Nesta bit the corner of her lip,and you couldn’t help but notice the sudden shift in the position of her thighs. She shot Eris a glare, lifting her chin with a challenge. “You wish.”

Before Eris could reply, you let out a snort of laughter at her boldness. A mistake, it seemed, as both your mates whipped their heads sharply towards you. Your stomach fluttered with a delicious fear, one that sent heat between your legs. 

“Is something funny?” Nesta asked, a hint of a smirk behind her lips.

You shook your head, resisting the urge to chuckle again. Truthfully, you were impressed with the self-restraint of your mates. For so many, the snapping of the mating bond ignited a weeks long frenzy of fucking. But even after the bond snapped between you, Nesta, and Eris, there had been next to no sexual touching. Every ounce of your being desired to ravage your mates, but Eris’s wishes to refrain until the wedding were the string that held you together. No, your male mate liked control. It was something you had always known about him, something that often made your imagination run wild with other types of control he would enjoy exercising. While you certainly liked your fair share of being in charge, you craved Eris’s approval that came with doing what he asked… after a good amount of mouthing off, that is.

Nesta had held herself together almost as well as Eris, refusing to give into your sly attempts to find a loophole in his command the last few weeks. She shared very little of what her and Cassian had done together, but you were itching to find out what she liked. To explore what buttons you could push, the sounds you could draw out from her plush lips…

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as Eris’s hand found its way into the locks of hair by your scalp, expertly tugging and pulling your head back against his solid chest. The moan that escaped you was completely involuntary, your body going haywire at the simple action of your mate. 

“Nesta asked you a question,” Eris said sternly, forcing you to look up at him. Your breath caught in your throat as he tilted your head back enough for him to stare down at you. His amber eyes were dark with lust, the crown upon his head and the smug look on his face painting the perfect picture of royal arrogance. “It would do you well to answer it.”

This time you managed to catch the whimper in your throat as Eris tilted your head to the side so you were upright and facing Nesta again. The way he moved your body around as if you were a piece of chess on his playing board sent a new wave of arousal through you. You felt torn in two, part of you wanting to submit and let him use you as he pleased while the other part wanted to challenge him and face the consequences he would no doubt dole out.

Nesta’s arms were crossed, pushing up her breasts ever so slightly, which your hungry eyes noticed right away. She raised a groomed eyebrow, “well?”

Deciding to give both of them what they wanted for now, you answered. “What’s funny is I thought you’d be more submissive, Nesta. Your remark caught me off guard. After all, I know how badly you want to please Eris.” The first sentence was entirely untrue, something all three of you knew. But you couldn’t help but add kindling to the fire. The masochistic part of your brain wanted to see how you’d be punished, and if it’d be enough to break you into submission.

“Brave words for somebody who’s about to be at her mercy.” Eris’s voice was low and smooth, his lips returning to your ear. 

Nesta simply stared you down evenly, wicked cunningness lurking behind her eyes. “Pathetic, she wants us to not be nice to her and is trying to goad us into doing what she wants.”

You shook your head, but excitement ran through your veins. You heard Eris chuckle from behind you, and Nesta let out an exhale. With the mating bond still so fresh and the three of you in such close proximity, you knew they had felt your body’s every reaction as if it were their own. Despite the chill autumn breeze, the room felt stiflingly hot.

Eris’s hands moved higher on your hips, fingers spreading and ever so slightly grazing the underside of your breast through the fabric of your dress. Nesta stepped forward as well, so close you could smell the honey-lemon tart she ate for dessert on her breath. Her cheeks were flushed with desire, but her eyes still donned that stern expression that drove you crazy. Before you could say anything, her slender fingers reached down and brushed against the inside of your legs through your skirts. An icy hot shiver went up your spine at the contact, and you couldn’t help but arch into Eris, who at this point was responsible for holding you upright.

“So, it seems that you have a choice to make, my dear,” Eris said in your ear, rubbing agonisingly slow circles along your sides with his fingers. “How do you want this night to go? Do you want me to be nice and focus on making you both feel good, hm?” With those last few words, Eris gave your hair another pull, tilting your head further to the right and exposing more of your neck. You cried out as his lips and teeth finally found your skin, gently kissing and biting with the perfect amount of pressure. Instantly, your breathing became uneven, your body desperate for more.

After a few moments of pleasuring the sensitive skin on your neck, Eris removed his lips and continued. “Or perhaps, you want something a little different, for me to be mean and turn you into more of a desperate mess than you already are.”

Suddenly, the gentle strokes of his lips and tongue from before were replaced with sharp canines sinking into your skin. You gasped, a new wave of arousal rushing through you like the waves of a storm. His teeth stung in the most delicious way, mixing with the pleasure arising in your body and making your head spin.

“I think we have our answer.” Nesta chuckled, moving her hands to rest on your hip bones just below Eris’s. “But I want to hear her say it.”

“I…” You stuttered, world reeling from the whispers of touches from Nesta’s hands on your hips mixed with the harsh biting at your neck from your other mate behind you. “I want you to do your worst.”

“Masochistic little fox.” Eris purred. “If you need us to stop, please speak up at any point. This may not be the traditional coupling of mates, but I want you to enjoy it.”

“Nothing about us is traditional.” You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That is true.” Nesta added. As if she couldn’t take the close proximity anymore, she crashed her lips into yours, squeezing your hips as she did so. Immediately, you placed your hands on her biceps, pulling her closer and moaning into the contact. Her mouth was soft yet all-consuming, and wetness almost immediately pooled between your legs. Nesta’s kisses have always turned you on in the several that you shared, but this was different. Before, they had been tender and longing, like a prayer echoing through an abandoned church. 

There was nothing tender about the way she was kissing you now. If her previous kisses were like a gentle creek flowing through the woods, this kiss was a tsunami. It bewitched your body and soul, her lips bold and claiming you wholly. You were hers, and she was yours – that’s all her kiss told you. You pulled her even closer, her chest brushing up against yours as Eris’s hands explored further, grazing your breasts more and more with each movement. You shuddered between them, lifting a hand and bringing it around Nesta’s neck, squeezing the back of it. She let out a moan, and you used the opportunity of her slack jaw to slip your tongue into her mouth, brushing her lips and tasting every inch of her.

After several minutes of being utterly consumed by the female, you felt her pull away. You let out a whine that was cut off abruptly as you were spun around to face Eris. His green cloak and dazzling crown had been discarded already, leaving him in his red and gold robes. Even without the royal symbols, there was no mistaking his power and status. It sent a thrill through you as you stared up at the male. Chuckling, Eris’s hand wove into your hair again as he pulled you forward, pressing his lips into yours. He was rougher than Nesta, a different kind of dominance, one that was nearly overwhelming. His lips were firm against yours, commanding every ounce of your attention, and you gladly gave it to him. The hand in your hair kept you immobile, unable to resist any which way Eris chose to move you.

You felt Nesta stir behind you, and after a few moments the strings trying together the back of the dress began to loosen. Her fingers expertly undid the material, and you eagerly pulled your arms from the long sleeves while keeping your lips glued to Eris. A shiver came over your body as Nesta’s fingers grazed your newly exposed skin, pulling the soft white and red fabric down your body and letting it fall to a heap on the floor before delicately removing the emerald necklace. Nesta also reached out and pulled the remaining few bobby pins out of your hair, releasing it from the previous mess of an updo it had become. 

You stood there in your underwear, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat from the evening’s festivities. You did not feel the urge to shy away and cover yourself as you had when getting undressed with previous lovers. Even as Eris pulled away and took a step back to drink in your naked form, you did not cower. You were his equal, and he yours. He would come to know your body like the back of his hand, there was no use in trying to hide it.

His amber eyes went from lustful to angry as they found the scar below your belly button, that cursed letter ‘M’ that his brother had carved into your skin. You bit your lip, pushing back memories of those awful encounters with Malgorm. 

“I hate the gods for letting this happen.” Eris muttered angrily, staring at the scar as if enough willpower could wash it away. “I am so sorry–”

You took a step forward, pressing your fingers against his lips to shush him. “What’s done is done,” You murmured. “We cannot change the past. We can find a way to permanently glamour the scar, as I do not wish for it to be on my body any more than you wish to gaze upon it, my love. Let’s not worry about it for now, okay?”

A slender hand on your shoulder made you turn to face Nesta. She had removed her crown and dress as well, leaving her just as naked as you. But her face was serious, breaking the teasing tension of the room as she spoke. “Are you sure this is okay? After everything that has happened, we don’t have to do this right away. We can wait.”

You shook your head. “No,” You said firmly. “I want this. I want you both. If I was unsure I would have said so. I trust you.”

Nesta’s voice was soft. “Okay. But is there anything off limits that might cause you to become… discomforted?”

You thought for a moment, hating the memories that flashed through your mind. But you endured it. Nesta was right – before anything happened, boundaries needed to be stated. “My neck…” You said slowly, remembering how hard Malgorm had grabbed you. “I don’t want pressure on my neck, please.”

Nesta nodded with understanding. You turned around to face Eris, whose gaze had softened. “I can work with that.” He said gently.

“What about you, Nesta?” You asked, facing your female mate once again. “What’s off limits for you?”

At first, the female visibly tensed, as if fighting off the urge to put those walls back up that she had so firmly in place when you first met her. Getting Nesta to be vulnerable with sex would be a journey, that much you knew. After how she described her couplings with Cassian and other males, this discussion of limits seemed new to her. She blinked slowly, and you could see the wheels in her mind turning. 

“Take your time,” you said softly, grabbing Eris’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

“My head…” Nesta said quietly after a moment, her eyes slightly glazed over as if reliving memories. “I would appreciate it if my head was not held down or restricted.”

Immediately, your mind thought of all the instances that explained this. The kelpie, the Cauldron, the human male who assaulted her, it all made sense. You nodded, then faced Eris once again to take the pressure off of Nesta. “And what about you, husband? Anything off limits?”

Eris scoffed half heartedly. “Nope. I am content with anything.”

You elbowed him lightly in the stomach, rolling your eyes. “You’re not funny. We’re trying to have a discussion here and you ruined it.”

The male made a noise of agreement, his eyes sobering up for a second before he sighed, removing the crown from his head and moving his fingers to unlace his robes. Nesta came up to stand beside you, her hand sliding into yours but her eyes fixed on Eris. Both of you stared as the male removed his robes and unlaced his tunic. You felt Nesta’s breath catch as Eris’s bare torso was revealed. Slender muscles were covered in faint scars. They looked to be from some sort of burning lashes – Beron’s doing, no doubt. Bile rose in your throat at the sight before you, at the thought of how bad these injuries must have been to still be scarred centuries later.

“My father liked to use his own fire on me,” Eris said slowly. “The wounds from the beatings disappeared fast, but my…. harsher punishments involved fire. I think in a way, he wanted me to fear our fire. But like many things in life, he failed.” He let out a hoarse laugh. “For this reason, I do not wish for pain to be inflicted upon me during sex. While I will inflict it if it’s something you want, I am firmly against being on the receiving end of it.”

“I understand.” You said, and Nesta murmured in agreement. Even with the scars, your body still heated up at the sight of Eris shirtless. They marked his skin like stars in the night sky, glowing in the candlelight. He was strikingly beautiful, every inch of him. From the way Nesta’s breathing changed beside you, he was having the same effect on her, too.

Finally, the arrogant smirk returned to Eris’s face. “Excellent, now that we are all in agreement…” His amber gaze fell upon you, making your knees weak as he spoke with lethal command, “Get on the bed.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but obliged, giving Nesta a quick kiss on the cheek on your way over. The mattress was soft and plushy as you sank down onto it, and you briefly wondered if you even wanted to know how much it had cost. 

All distracting thoughts vanished from your head as Nesta strode over, prowling like a dragon approaching a lost sheep. The silver light from the moon and the golden light from the candles illuminated her soft curves in an otherworldly way, the coronet now evolved into a simple loose, messy braid coming over her shoulder. She smirked as you leaned up to kiss her from your sitting position. Before your lips could reach hers, she chuckled and abruptly pushed you back so you were laying down. The yelp you let out as you unexpectedly fell back was cut off by a kiss, her mouth swallowing any noise you made as you melted beneath her. The rich scent of your combined arousals flooded the room, filling your senses.

Nesta’s thighs straddled you as she pressed her body into yours, her creamy skin brushing against you and making your nerves go haywire as she shifted her mouth to your throat, planting gentle kisses there before sliding further down your body. You reached down to try and pull her back up so you could touch her, but two silver flames appeared around your wrists, gently guiding them up over your head and twining into the bedframe, leaving your hands tied. You whimpered in complaint, causing Nesta to stop her kisses just above your breast. 

“I’m sorry, did you want to touch me?” She asked huskily, eyes dark. Her lips moved just above your nipple, her breath sending the bud into a peak.

“Yes.” You said breathily, trying to keep the desperate tone out of your voice.

Nesta gave your nipple a quick lick, causing your entire body to twitch before she continued. “Too bad, you have to earn it.”

“And how do I do that?” You snapped in frustration, unable to stop yourself. 

As quick as a snake, Nesta reached under your thigh and hoisted your hips off the mattress. With her other hand, she reached underneath and slapped your ass. Hard. Instinctively, you moaned loudly, pain and pleasure coursing through your body and creating even more wetness between your legs. Through half-open eyes, you saw Nesta blink in surprise then smile wickedly. She turned to Eris, who had discarded his bottoms and was palming himself through his underwear. A silent conversation passed between them, and you shivered with anticipation before Nesta turned back towards you. “Lose the attitude, love,” she said.

You huffed, but tried to force the attitude out of your voice. “Boring. What do I have to do to earn it?”

“You’ll have to beg us to let you cum, and you’ll ask permission to do so.”

“I don’t beg.”

“Oh but you will,” Eris chimed in, gently gliding his fingers down Nesta’s spine as she took your nipple in her mouth, causing you to moan. “And you’ll love every second of it.”

You couldn’t deny that. All you could focus on was Nesta’s mouth on you, her other hand fondling the other breast. All the squirming in the world was useless against those silver flame restraints, which was unyielding. Finally, Nesta shuffled down so she was kneeling on the ground with her upper body between your thighs. Involuntarily, your legs automatically widened as she settled in, which did not go unnoticed.

“Wow, you are desperate for me, aren’t you?” Nesta teased, running a finger up your inner thigh. “The lightest of touches have you soaked through your underwear, I can’t imagine how you’ll react when I get my mouth on you.”

You whimpered at her words that washed over you like warm water. You had never been this wet, this aching to be touched. Nesta was smug as her finger ghosted over your clothed slit, feeling the wetness of the thin material. Your hips jolted at the sensation, electric shock wracking your nerves. 

Your mates were going to be the death of you. Every instinct screamed to find a way out of the restraints and pounce on Nesta and Eris, but your desire to please them overpowered it.

“My, my, she’s sensitive,” Eris mocked. “I don’t think she’ll be able to handle what we’ve got planned.”

“She will,” Nesta said sternly before glancing up at you. “Won’t you?”

You nodded in blind agreement, the anticipation of not knowing what was coming next both exciting and terrifying you. “Good girl,” Nesta replied before grabbing your panties and tearing them in two, revealing your soaking wet pussy. She moaned at the sight of your exposed core, making you pool even further. Every sound she made, every look she gave you was enough to drive you crazy. Your thighs were near trembling as she lightly touched your clit, the contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves making you jump and your thighs twitch.

“Look how wet she is,” Eris said. “And we haven’t even done anything…”

Your eyes snapped open fully when you realised he had removed his underwear and was stroking his cock. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of the male with his hand wrapped around his long cock, a smug expression on his face as he stared down at you like you were a piece of meat served up on a platter. “See something you like?” He said arrogantly as he noted your expression.

“Mother above, do I ever,” You replied breathlessly. “My brain doesn’t even know where to focus.”

Nesta said, “I think I can remedy that.” Without another word, the female’s head dove between your thighs, her tongue sliding up from your entrance to your clit before wrapping her lips around the bud and sucking. Bursting with pleasure, your back arched off the bed, hands angrily pulling against the restraints begging to touch Nesta. She repeated the pattern, licking and sucking in all the right spots and making your eyes roll back in your head. 

Cursing under your breath, you let out moans as Nesta ate you out. Her hands were wrapped around your thighs, burying herself as far into you as she could. You could feel her enjoyment and desire through the mating bond, which intensified the experience tenfold. Never before had you been this turned on this fast. Nesta had already figured out what made your body sing and was playing it like a violin. Eris was kneeling behind Nesta, pressing kisses all over her back. The sight of it turned you on even more.

You could pinpoint the exact moment Eris’s fingers found Nesta’s pussy. The female let out a moan that sent vibrations into your core, making your moan echo off of hers. The room was filled with the wet sounds of Nesta’s mouth on you and Eris’s fingers rubbing Nesta’s clit. Her face was screwed up with pleasure and a focused determination, her tongue never relenting against you.

“Isn’t she making you feel so good?” Eris asked you. “Nesta seems like she’s already doing very good with her mouth, I can’t wait to test it out myself.”

“So fucking good…” You murmured, causing Nesta to moan in approval between your legs.

The sounds between Nesta’s thighs intensified as Eris slipped a finger into her, curling it in a way that had her squirming in between you two. “Do you know how many nights I’ve had to get myself off to refrain from storming into your rooms and dragging both of you into my bed to be fucked senseless? I’ve had so many fantasies about what I want to do to you two, even with an eternity ahead of us I don’t know if we’ll have time to complete them all…” The male continued, cocking his head and pushing his hips forward, letting his cock rub against Nesta’s ass. “Is this everything you dreamed of, my love, hmm?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, hands gripping onto the headboard as you writhed underneath Nesta’s mouth. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, coupled with the sight of Eris behind Nesta’s kneeling form with his knuckles buried inside her, you felt yourself approaching the journey to your climax within ten minutes, a new record for you.​ Your mate between your legs whimpered as Eris’s movements seemingly sped up, but she kept her blue-grey eyes open and looking up at you. Incoherent noises escaped your throat as you began to plead. “Please…” you begged. “I’m getting close…”

“Close to what?” Eris asked mockingly, his voice perfectly even as if he wasn’t curling his fingers inside Nesta so tactfully that she was shaking slightly. “You have to use your words, my love.”

You felt your orgasm building at a rapid pace, coming crashing towards you like a tidal wave. “Please… I’m gonna–” Your words were abruptly cut off as you were unable to hold back the inevitable. Like water overflowing a cup, your orgasm washed over you, spreading that warm electric sensation through your nerve endings. Nesta groaned with pleasure as your hips bucked against her face, grinding into it as you rode out your high. The world went silent around you in those few, stretched out seconds. It was an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced.

With shaking legs you caught your breath and Nesta finally removed her tongue from your cunt. You watched through hooded lids as she leaned her head back, and Eris bent down and kissed her hungrily, lapping up your juices. One of his hands grabbed her breast, squeezing it in his fingers and making her moan into his mouth. They were like two gods in a painting before you, one you would happily stare at for the rest of your life.

The silver flames around your wrists vanished, and you eagerly brought your arms back down to stretch them out. When Nesta and Eris eventually separated, they turned their gazes towards you. And you knew you were fucked from the wicked look in their eyes.

“I’m sorry–” You began apologising, but Eris cut you off.

“We asked you to do one thing, and you couldn’t even do it…” He said with gleeful disappointment. “A shame, I had such a lovely reward in mind for you if you had just been a good girl.”

Nesta scoffed. “I think she wanted the punishment.”

“She will regret that very soon.” Eris stood up and strode over to your side of the bed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him. “Did we say you could cum?”

You shook your head, earning you another harsh tug that elicited a moan. “I asked you a question,” Eris hissed. “Did we say you could cum?”

“No…” You stuttered weakly, shrinking beneath his and Nesta’s gazes.

“Then why did you?”

“It felt too good, I couldn’t stop it.”

“Do you think flattery will keep you from punishment?”

You sheepishly shrugged. “A girl can dream, right?”

Eris barked out a laugh, grabbing you gently by the hands and guiding you off the bed. Your legs still felt weak, and had it not been for Eris you would have surely stumbled in your first few steps. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta smugly smirking at her handiwork, her cheeks flushed. 

But Eris’s hand grasped your chin, turning your focus to him as you met his gaze. “Go to the empty space on the wall,” He said slowly. “And place your hands on it and spread your legs.”

You baulked, eyes widening. The evil grin on his face sent chills up your spine. Despite your recent orgasm, your body began to heat up again. Knowing better than to protest this time, you did as you were told. The sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the large bedroom as you walked over to the gap in the wall between the fireplace and the corner area. Taking a deep breath, you faced the wall and placed your hands on the smooth wood. It was cold beneath your touch, a soothing sensation against your sweating palms. You mentally cursed your body at how quickly it was recovering and ready for a second round. The mating bond was thick with desire so palpable you could feel it.

You heard footsteps coming up behind you, and you knew without looking that it was Eris. His presence could be felt creeping up on you as if it were your own shadow. You flinched as he put his hands on your waist, pressing his chest into your back. His cock rubbed against your ass as it did with Nesta’s, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. “If you want something, you have to ask for it,” Eris murmured in your ear. “Those are my rules, and you have already broken them. I am going to spank you ten times, and you’re going to fucking take it. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Eris.” You whimpered. Behind you, his cock twitched at the moaning of his name and the male groaned. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta take a seat in the nearby chair with a glass of white wine in hand. She had run a comb through her hair, and when she caught your gaze she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me for help,” she chided. “You’ve done this to yourself. I will not get you out of this.”

You sighed, trembling in anticipation and waiting with bated breath for the first strike. Wasting no time, it came seconds later. Eris’s hand came down on your right ass cheek, hard. From your throat came a guttural cry, one you didn’t know you were capable of making. It was a cross between a scream and a moan, crossing into the latter as the impact from the initial sting melted into a white hot pleasure. You barely had time to recover before the second one came on the other cheek this time, drawing out the same response.

“Good girl…” Eris murmured, rubbing your ass and pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You sighed beneath his touch, melting into it. 

But the tenderness didn’t last long. By the seventh spank, tears pricked the corners of your eyes. 

“Aw, look at her, Eris,” Nesta spoke up. “You’ve made her cry.”

Your laboured breaths drowned out his response as you pressed your forehead into your arms, which you had valiantly kept pressed against the wall. Your ass stung and sweat dripped down your forehead. But the cherry on top was your dripping cunt. Wetness had seeped down your thighs, glistening in the candlelight of the room on display for everyone to see.

You felt Eris’s hand brush some stray hairs out of your face, and he leaned in close to murmur into your ear, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” You whispered, nodding feverishly. 

There was no teasing in your mate’s voice as he spoke. “Do we need to stop?”

“No,” You insisted. “I can handle three more, I promise.”

You felt Eris nod against you before pulling away and continuing to rub your ass, which already donned the formations of several dark bruises. You turned your head towards Nesta, who was watching the scene with lust in her eyes. “You’re doing so well, my love,” she said tenderly. “You can do it.”

With a newfound determination, you forced your body to relax as Eris’s hand came down again with a loud smack, making you wince and grow wetter at the same time. Then again, and again. Finally, after the tenth smack, you collapsed your head into your arms again, panting. Your legs felt as weak as a newborn deer, gangly and unstable. You didn’t even have the energy to react as Eris swiped his fingers through your slip, sampling the wetness gathered there. 

He chuckled darkly. “My, my, somebody sure enjoyed that.”

“I’m not surprised, given her reaction to my one slap earlier.” Nesta said, placing her wine glass on the table next to her before standing up and making her way over to where you and Eris were standing. She wiped some sweat from your brow with a cloth and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Well done.”

“Is my punishment over?” You asked weakly.

“Not quite,” Eris responded, gently guiding you over to the chair Nesta had been seated in. “You’ve demonstrated a lack of patience, which is unacceptable. So you are going to learn to be patient, and you are going to sit here and watch me fuck Nesta.”

“And you’re not allowed to touch yourself,” Nesta added sternly as Eris pushed you into the chair, which was now turned to face the bed and had a glass of water next to it. Truthfully, your body was relieved at the idea of getting a break. Your muscles ached from the trembling, and the idea of watching your mates fuck each other made your body heat up. So you nodded, getting a kiss on the cheek from each of your mates before they made their way to the bed. After taking a sip of the ice cold water, you leaned back in the plushy chair.

Nesta knelt on the bed, her long locks cascading down her back as she looked up at Eris. He stood before her at the edge of the bed like an altar she was worshipping, his lean muscles illuminated by the moon. He bent down and kissed Nesta as if she contained the last molecules of air left in this universe, his lips moulding into hers perfectly. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched her shoulders relax as she melted into his kiss. Desire began to build in you once again, just by watching your mates share a heated kiss.

With a shove on the shoulder, Eris pushed Nesta into the bed so she was laying down. He wasted no time crawling over her body and pressing heated kisses across her chest. As his mouth came to her nipple, Nesta moaned and wound a hand in the male’s red locks, arching her back into his touch. Your palms itched with the urge to go over there and help, but the soreness of your ass reminded you to stay in your seat. 

“Fuck, these are gorgeous…” Eris murmured before switching to her other breast. He groaned into the mound of flesh as Nesta’s grip in his hair tightened, the animalistic sound echoing throughout the chamber.

Don’t touch yourself, you reminded yourself. No matter how hot the scene before you was, and despite the fact you normally loved being punished, you knew your mates were the type to only be so forgiving.

Grabbing one of Nesta’s long legs, Eris placed a kiss on the inside of her calf, working his way down. Nesta’s breathing shifted, her hips squirming to try and meet his face, but the male swerved every time and kissed her thigh instead. More arousal pooled between your legs as you watched Nesta squirm beneath Eris.

“Please, Eris…” Nesta breathed, her cheeks red and eyes half closed with desire.

The red haired male stopped, his lips centimetres above her pussy. “Please what?”

“Please use your mouth on me…”

Nesta’s pleas made you whimper. All you wanted to do was go over there and satisfy her, to have her clamp her thighs around your head until the world crumbled into ash before you. Eris turned his head to face you, where you were gripping the arms of the chair. “See how she asked nicely?” He said to you, “Now she’s going to get what she wants. It’s that simple.”

His pale fingers gripped Nesta’s hips tightly, pinning them down to the mattress as he brought his face between her legs and began his work. Immediately, Nesta let out a loud moan – she was much more vocal than you, letting her noises out shamelessly as she was pinned down. After several minutes, Eris easily slid two fingers into Nesta, stretching her out yet still keeping her hips still with only one hand. 

“Oh, fuck…” Nesta cried out as Eris curled his fingers inside her, one of her hands gripping the sheets while the other palmed her breast. Her eyes fluttered closed, and it was only minutes later when Eris pulled away. Nesta whined at the loss of contact, and he let out a growl, grabbing her leg and hitching it up against his waist. You watched with a slack jaw and clenched legs as Eris lined his cock up with Nesta’s entrance before slowly pushing it in. 

Nesta’s face contorted, her eyes squeezing shut and mouth opening in pleasure as Eris pushed himself to the hilt. His head tilted back, and his jaw clenched with pleasure. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hand so hard it almost bled, the sensation of watching your mates’ blissed out expressions almost overpowering.

Eris leaned over Nesta, one hand on her thigh keeping it up against his hip while the other planted itself beside her shoulder. It only took a few minutes for him to pound in and out of Nesta, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and drowning out Nesta’s moans. Eris was fucking Nesta hard, her toes visible curling with each thrust.

As Nesta’s legs began to tremble not ten minutes later, Eris slowed down his thrusts, making her whine. He turned his head towards you, a devilish grin on face. “So, my dear,” he said to you. “Do you think Nesta deserves to cum?”

Surprise flickered in you, and seemingly in Nesta too, for she turned her head sharply to look at you with wide eyes as Eris’s hand rubbed her clit. “P…please…” she begged you, desperation written all across your face.

You were torn in two. You wanted nothing more than to see Nesta cum, to watch her writhe underneath Eris as she rode out a blissful high. But the sinister part of you wanted to show her that you weren’t the only one who could take charge.

After a minute, you came to your decision. “No.”

“What?!” Nesta sputtered angrily as Eris pulled out of her, chuckling. Her hair was stuck to her face, her lips swollen from kissing and her cheeks red. Her grey eyes shot you a  furious glare.

“That’s my devilish little fox,” Eris purred, beckoning you over with a finger. “You took your punishment very well, and I think it’s time for a reward.”

“Please,” you begged pathetically as you laid down on the bed beside Nesta, desperate for any physical contact. 

Sensing that, Eris gave you a quick kiss before grabbing your hips and spreading your legs with his knees. You were so soaking wet that after checking your comfort with two fingers, Eris lined himself up with your entrance and slammed into you with ease. The breath was knocked out of your lungs at the impact, the delicious stinging pain of the stretch quickly melting into pleasure as it had with the spanks. He gave you no time to adjust before pounding into you, his soft grunts filling the air.

Beside you, Nesta sat up, a playful look in her eyes replacing the furious one. She grabbed your hair just as Eris had, forcing you to look at her. “Since you decided to be a brat and not let me finish after I was so nice to you, I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours to shut you up and use you to finish myself off. Got it?”

About to burst with happiness that your plan worked, you nodded eagerly, shifting your shoulders to get more comfortable. Seeing the smugness on your face, Nesta rolled her eyes but released her hair, spinning her hips to face Eris. She then swung her leg over your face, leaning forward to place her hands on your breasts and play with them as she lowered herself down.

You moaned into her pussy, tasting the mixture of her and Eris on your tongue, eagerly lapping it up. You used the tip of your tongue to flick her clit, making her legs twitch around your head. Repeating patterns of licking and sucking, you gripped Nesta’s hips tightly as she grinded herself into your face.

Eris’s thrusts had somehow gotten more powerful, making you whimper into Nesta. Your wife let out a moan at the vibration, then Eris’s fingers found your clit. You were oversensitive, and as a result moaned repeatedly between Nesta’s thighs. Her legs began to shake around you, her hands squeezing your breasts as she panted, “Can I please cum?”

“Yes.” Eris grunted, his own thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his own release. Seconds later, Nesta moaned wantonly, her legs clenching your head and shaking like an earthquake as you sucked on her clit, drawing out her release. She cried out, her orgasm wracking her body as she grinded her hips into your face even more. You happily took it, whimpering as her moans spurred both you and Eris on towards your own release. 

As Nesta dragged her trembling self off of your body, she flopped down beside you. Her fingers quickly took Eris’s hand’s place at your clit, rubbing back and forth harshly. You nearly screamed at the sudden pressure, white hot pleasure pooling in your gut ready to burst.

“Come for me, my love,” Nesta purred in your ear.

That was all it took to send you over the edge. Your muscles clenched as your release shot through you, and you gasped with the sudden wave of pleasure. Nesta murmured praises in your ear as you rode your high, and Eris let out a growling moan as his hips sputtered, your clenching around his cock spurring on his orgasm. You cried out as his cum shot into you, the sensation almost overwhelming and prolonging your high. 

Finally, the ironclad grip on your hips released and Eris slowly pulled himself out of you. Your legs twitched, all three of you panting in an attempt to catch your breath. Deep down, you felt whole, as if the mating bond had somehow grown even stronger since before the wedding. It was as if a piece of you had been missing before you met Nesta and Eris, and they were slowly filling that void with pieces of their own.

“Does anyone fancy joining me for a shower? I’ll have someone deliver our favourite snacks afterwards,” Eris asked, standing up and holding his hands out for you and Nesta. Eagerly, you both took his extended hands and headed towards the newly built bathing room.

As the three of you stood under the multiple shower heads, tenderly washing each other when needed, you felt happy tears prick your eyes. The Nesta you met six months ago was a shell of herself, angry, with walls as high as Ramiel that refused to be crumbled by anyone. She was an object in another male’s court, a pawn in the games he played. An aggressive animal that was to be locked in a cage and only lured out when they had use for her. That Nesta never would have let anyone wash her hair, or cuddle beside her in bed. The Nesta standing beneath the shower with you was a changed female, one who knew her value and was now finally free to make her own choices without threats being made at every corner. She laughed freely, smiled more often, and the life had returned to her eyes.

Eris was a male who you never thought would tenderly kiss your forehead, or kneel before you to help you wash your legs. To be raised in an environment as harsh as Beron’s shadow, you knew how lucky you truly were that his heart stayed good. No matter how often he would deny it, you knew he was a good male.

And so all of the horrors you had faced in the last six months washed away with your happy tears in the shower, your wife and your husband beside you to hold you up no matter what.

Three months.

As the sun peaked in the sky above, Elara knew from the faint handmade scratches in the wall beside her bed that today marked three months since she ended up in the Night Court. Three months since her old friend, Lucien, had found her. She had been bloodied and battered, half-dead amidst the ruins of which once was her small village in the Spring Court. What had started as Lucien simply journeying to check on the High Lord, Tamlin, in an attempt to rebuild their relationship turned into a rescue mission in wake of Hybern’s recent warpath. Elara had found out soon after that she was the only survivor, but barely. All she remembered was the sound of Lucien’s panicked voice, and the sensation of a world spinning as he winnowed her away.

She did not remember much about her arrival in the Night Court, aside from the occasional scents of ointments as healers tended to her broken, starved body. She was in and out of consciousness for a few days, never staying awake for more than five minutes at a time. During those brief waking moments, Lucien had explained that she was at a fortress called the House of Wind, in the high mountains above the main city. But her body was too weak, too worn down to give her the strength to protest being held in an enemy court. She hated it here. Despised the stifling air of her small healer’s room. The walls were too close, threatening to collapse in on her at any moment. The chilly mountain air stung her throat, the absence of her home’s familiar flowery scent aching deep within her. All she wanted was the comfort of her mother, her father, or someone from home to tell her that this was all just a bad dream. But it wasn’t. Elara was in enemy territory, at the mercy of a High Lord who played games with lives. And a High Lady who shattered the Spring Court and left its people to bleed. Part of her wished Lucien had left her to die there. The thought brought shame over her, the guilt of being the only survivor screaming at her that she was ungrateful for this second chance. 

But after a week, Elara had been strong enough to get out of bed, deemed well enough by a firm but kind healer to officially meet with the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.

To say it had gone poorly had been an understatement. From the beginning, Elara could see the disdain in the Night Court leaders’ eyes as they learned her to be from the Spring Court, their judgement palpable as if she, not her leader, had been the one who had locked Feyre in that manor after the escape from Under the Mountain. Rage had coiled in her cut as she stared down the High Lady, angry at how she lived her life without remorse for what she had done to the people of Elara’s court.

“Glad to see you are awake and well.” Rhysand had said, no warmth to be found in his violet eyes. 

“Spare me your false sympathies, High Lord, I do not need them.” Elara had snapped out in response. Despite the ground still swaying beneath her, she had stood as tall as she could manage. Her limbs had been weak, bones and muscles trembling like paper with the effort. Her once shining, almost dark auburn, brown hair was dull and lifeless. The dark circles under her eyes were prominent, her face hollow like wraith’s. Yet still, she had stood firm, spurred on by the anger at the two fae in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen Lucien giving her a pleading look, begging her not to start this argument now.

But she had anyway. Elara did not want to be in the Night Court, forced to rely on the generosity of the female who destroyed her court and the male who delighted in cruelty. Everyone in Prythian knew what Tamlin had done to Feyre, how he locked her up in the manor. Truthfully, Elara could not blame her anger – it had been wrong for the Spring High Lord to lock his bride-to-be up. 

But Feyre Archeron had elected to take her revenge on the people of Spring Court. She had sunk her claws in and deliberately opened it up like a wound, allowing Hybern to take advantage of its weakness and go on a slaughtering rampage, one that had almost gotten Elara killed. And yet Feyre was hailed as a hero for destroying a court of innocent people just to get back at its leader. The thought made Elara’s stomach churn, remembering the terrified faces of her friends and family as their throats were slit by Hybern soldiers who laughed as their blood spilled onto their armour. All because of the High Lady of the Night Court.

And so she had not held back her hostility, letting her hatred and anger spill from her lips. “Am I supposed to thank you?” She had scoffed at the High Lady, rolling her hazel eyes. 

“That would be a start.” Feyre had said tersely, looking down her nose at Elara. “You are in my court, after all, being taken care of by my healers.”

Elara had snorted, letting out a dry laugh. “You are the reason I am here, High Lady. Because you let your petty revenge fantasies destroy my court and slaughter my village, my family, everything I loved.”

Feyre had stiffened, eyes shifting to her mate for support.

“You will not speak to her like that.” Rhysand had growled, letting his power fill the room in an attempt to intimidate Elara.

“Or what, you’ll kill me?” The words left Elara at rapid fire before she could stop to contemplate her situation, biting back with no remorse. “You have no problem letting people from Spring Court die, so go for it. Maybe killing another one of us will make you feel better.”

Lucien had intervened at this point, trying to ease the tension before it got out of hand. But Elara continued to stare down at the High Lord and Lady, wishing she were anywhere else but in this wretched court. She knew that the only reason she was still alive was because if they killed her, Lucien would be less inclined to work with them. And for whatever reason, they needed him on their side.

And that is how Elara had ended up at the House of Wind, having graduated to the privilege of a guest room rather than the healer’s chamber. It was spacious enough, a large bed with a fireplace in the corner and windows that encompassed a view of the mountains. Now strong enough, Elara could go where she pleased within the High Lord’s residence, but that was all. The High Lord and Lady claimed she was not a prisoner. But she knew that they were well aware she was too weak to tackle the 10,000 steps down into the city. And no doubt there were eyes everywhere, watching her every move and reporting back to Rhysand. So yes, she was essentially a prisoner despite her pretty cage, and she had told them as much right before they winnowed away. As he was not so subtly ushered away by Feyre, Lucien had promised he’d come visit her. But when he didn’t, Elara began to suspect that the High Lord and Lady had deliberately been keeping him busy.

So with her strength returned but her life seemingly shackled to this grand residence, Elara wandered aimlessly around the estate. It was admittedly beautiful, but the opposite of everything she was used to. Everything felt colder, darker, like there was an axe above her head waiting to fall the second she put a foot wrong. Every day, her mind buzzed like a swarm of bees, angry thoughts filled with resentment that she was stuck in the court ruled by the female who had torn her own court apart. She barely ate, her time mostly consisting of sitting on the reading nook by one of the large windows, staring out at the mountains beyond. The food was beautiful, but she barely tasted it on her tongue. Nothing soothed that ache she felt in her chest, nor did anything bring her comfort as she cried herself to sleep every night. What little sleep she got was disrupted by night terrors, waking her up in a cold sweat. 

Her life became a predictable routine. Like clockwork, she would head to the nearby kitchen where breakfast was laid out for her. She would push it around on her plate, stomaching what she could before going for her usual walk. Down the hallway by the paintings she would go, before coming to a grand staircase and walking up it to the upper floor. She would wander through the always empty study area, noting the magnificent maps and artifacts yet not once touching anything. She felt like a ghost, drifting from one end of the house to the other before settling in the reading nook until sunset. There, she would curl up, staring out the windows yet seeing nothing. 

One day, things changed. Normally, nobody bothered Elara while she stared out of the window, the only other signs of life in the reading room being the occasional servant passing through. On a rainy afternoon, she decided to crack open one of the books on the shelf and begin reading. She was a few chapters into the mystical romance novel when she heard footsteps approaching, stopping a few feet away from her. Normally, she would have ignored the other presence in the room, but something in her chest pulled at her like a string, urging her to turn around. 

And so Elara did, and she was faced with the most beautiful female she had ever seen.

She was tall and lean, dressed in a dark blue gown with long sleeves and a collar around her elegant neck. Her face was sharp and her hair was a rich caramel shade, braided in a crown around her head. Those slate-coloured eyes glinted, staring Elara down with an intensity that she imagined made most fae shuffle on their feet with uneasiness. But it was a different intensity than the High Lord and Lady’s gazes, and rather than fear, she felt only awe.

“You are Lucien’s friend.” The female finally spoke. Her expression was unreadable, and she was as still as a statue.

“Yes.” Elara had said, meeting her gaze. The tall female was enchanting, and Elara’s heart fluttered at the sound of her cool voice. She was silent for a moment longer before speaking again.

“I heard you caused some upset with my sister and her mate.”

A bell pinged in Elara’s head as she put the pieces together. Lucien had mentioned Feyre’s older sister, not that she needed an introduction to her. Everyone across Prythian had heard of the female who severed the King of Hybern’s head from his body, whose eyes glowed with silver fire from the Cauldron itself. 

Elara was unsure of what to say. Part of her worried that Nesta would look at her with the same disdain as her sister had, but the other part of Elara knew that she wouldn’t. For some reason, Nesta was in the same position as her, a prisoner in the House of Wind while her sister was free to wander the city below, apparently painting away in her new grand estates according to Lucien’s last letter. The thought had made Elara seethe with rage, knowing so many fae like herself were still suffering from the war, with no money and no support.

The silence slowly ate away at her, until Nesta finally spoke.

“Good.” Was all she said before turning away and walking out of the room.

And that was the beginning of Elara and Nesta. Over the next three weeks, they saw each other more. It started with Nesta asking what Elara was reading, and suggesting other stories for her to read. And then, the Cauldron-made female began joining her, sitting in silence in the chair across from Elara as they both read their books. Eventually by the fourth week, Elara found herself leaving the room and going to the library with the older Archeron sister, or sipping tea on the balcony. 

For the first while, the two of them spoke little. It was not an uncomfortable silence though. The females simply sat contently in each other's presence. And Elara realized that it was nice to have someone else around who wasn’t a servant scurrying about, especially one that didn’t worship the ground that the High Lady and Lord walked on. But after another month of quiet companionship, careful conversation began. Initially, it began as mere discussions of the books. But over time, it lead to grow more personal. While Nesta revealed little about herself, Elara found herself explaining her situation in as few words as possible. She had tensed, expecting judgement or sly comments. But Nesta had merely nodded before changing the topic.

One day, the ‘inner circle’, as Nesta explained they called themselves, arrived at the House of Wind for dinner. Lucien had informed Elara earlier that morning, sheepishly explaining that not attending wasn’t an option. Apparently the rulers of the Night Court wanted to build relations with her – which she knew was just code for seeing if they could use her connections to the Spring Court to their advantage.

Elara snorted, making a crude comment about the sheer balls of the High Lord and Lady. But she was in no position to argue, no matter how she felt. The dinner was an unavoidable test, and it would happen no matter what. And Elara’s future would undoubtedly be decided.

****************

Elara stood in front of the cracked mirror in her room, examining the dress that one of the servants had brought earlier. It was black, with a deep V-neck and a thick band around her waist. The sleeves were made of sheer material that hung loose around her arms and gathered at the wrist. She could not deny that it was a nice dress, but there was a bitter taste in her mouth regardless. She knew that  it was selected to make her feel like she was part of the Night Court. 

I am not a part of this court, and I will never be, Elara thought to herself, biting her bottom lip nervously. In her broken reflection, she could see that despite the months spent healing from her injuries, she still looked no more than an ancient ghost. Her collarbones jutted out slightly, her ribs more visible underneath the tight fabric. Those dark circles made her deep-set hazel eyes appear sunken, their presence unyielding no matter how much sleep she got. She was a shell of herself, an unrecognizable thing staring back in the cracked mirror.

Having no energy to deal with her wavy hair, Elara decided to leave it unbound. With a shaking hand, she opened her door and exited her room, leaving behind the warmth of the fireplace. Another click of a door closing caused Elara to turn her head. A few feet away, Nesta stood in the hallway, her room being one down from Elara’s apparently, a discovery they had made last week. 

Nesta’s dress was similar to the blue one Elara had met her in, only it was a shade of deep grey, and the thin neckline plunged to her navel. Nesta’s hair was braided in her usual style, but dark circles haunted the skin under her eyes akin to your own. Elara knew Nesta had not been sleeping, often hearing her toss and turn all night from the other side of the wall. From what she gathered from their conversations, Nesta was in a somewhat similar position as her. And the look on Nesta’s face told Elara that the Archeron sister was dreading this dinner more than she was.

“Hey.” Elara said softly. Nesta’s gaze met hers, silver eyes glazed as if they were staring right through her.

But Elara’s heart nearly shattered at how broken she looked. Nesta’s story had been whispered in the winds of the Spring Court, but she hadn’t dared ask her about it. How awful it must have been to be stolen from one’s bed – bodily autonomy stripped away from you as you were turned into something else. She did not look like the fierce Kingslayer the rumours spoke of, or the mean, nasty female that cut people down with her words, but rather a shell of a person who was seconds away from crumbling into nothing.

“Are you ready?” Elara asked through a dry throat.

Nesta was utterly still for several moments. For a second, Elara wondered if she’d turn around and simply return to her room, abandoning the idea of enduring the dinner altogether. 

But then, Nesta nodded stiffly, and Elara extended her hand before she could think twice. She froze, cringing at herself for the gesture. Part of her was afraid she’d scoff at the gesture, lashing out and storming away and leaving Elara alone and embarrassed. Embarrassment began to flush in her cheeks, but she could not pull her hand back. Nesta was the only connection she had to this world, with Lucien no longer visiting her. In such a short time and with nobody else by her side, it dawned on Elara that Nesta had become a lifeline for her. A lifeline she was extending her hand to not just for Nesta’s sake, but for her own.

To Elara’s surprise, Nesta slid a bony hand into hers. It was ice cold and shaky, so she gave it a gentle squeeze.

“We can face them together,” Elara assured her. “I don’t know what went down between you and the Night Court, but I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Nesta’s eyes cleared as she turned her gaze back towards her. She blinked once, as if she was making sure Elara was real, standing there holding her hand.

“And I’ll be with you.” Elara continued, her voice shaking slightly as she tilted her chin up. “Now let’s get this over with.”

Nesta was as stiff as a board as they walked, her chin held high as if preparing herself to face a mortal enemy. Her eyes were glassy and clouded, as if a foggy haze was wrapped around her brain trapping her in her own thoughts. Elara was the opposite, jittering with nerves and shaky legs. If her hand began to sweat in Nesta’s, the female made no comment. Every step towards the dining hall echoed like a war drum. The sound of laughter and a mix of familiar and unfamiliar voices grew closer and closer, and you fought every instinct to run.

Tentative hand in hand, Elara and Nesta silently strolled down the fire-lit hallway until they got to the large doorway of their destination, bracing themselves for whatever the next hours would bring.

*************

Elara stifled a laugh at the expressions when she and Nesta pushed their way through the grand doors and walked into the dinning room, hands entwined. At the table, Rhysand and Feyre sat side by side at the head, dressed in glamorous black attire. The High Lord’s violet eyes simmering at the sight of Elara and Nesta side by side, while Feyre’s were wide with surprise. There was an empty space next to Feyre, no doubt intended for Nesta, and on the other side of the seat was a blonde female wearing a red dress with a plunging neckline. Elara immediately recognized her as the Morrigan. Her neck and wrists cluttered with gold jewelry, and her face was undeniably gorgeous, save for the confused look that was written across her features. She also recognized the familiar figures of Cassian and Azriel, who sat next to the blonde, also looking surprised. The one with long hair, Cassian, who Elara had met in passing a few times but said nothing to, paused halfway through sipping his glass of wine. His eyes were wholly focused on Nesta, and the jealousy pooling in them didn’t go unnoticed by both Elara and Nesta, who stiffened and clenched her free hand. Beside him, Azriel showed less surprise. Elara had also met him a few times, and he was the one member of the Inner Circle that she could tolerate, as he didn’t say anything to her. He merely blinked once, an unreadable expression on his face, and a shadow curled around his neck.

To Rhysand’s right was a small female with short black hair and red lips. It was Amren, Elara figured. A look of disgust crossed her face, and Nesta’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, something had gone down between the two of them. Next to Amren was a male with dark skin and white hair, looking very uncomfortable. Lucien sat next to him, looking like he was going to burst out laughing any second. Another empty chair was next to Lucien, clearly intended for Elara.

Silence filled the room for what could have been an eternity until Feyre spoke up.

“Nesta, Elara,” The High Lady said, voice light and airy. “We are so glad you could join us.”

Nobody else said anything, and Elara could practically feel Nesta’s panic through her palms. She was looking at the seat meant for her, between her sister who locked her up here and a female who clearly disliked her. 

After squeezing Nesta’s hand, Elara let go and walked over to the chair beside Feyre. Confused, the entire table watched as she grabbed the back of the fancy-looking chair and dragged it away, not caring about the ear splitting scraping sound it made on the stone floor. The joy brought a jolt of satisfaction through her. Wordlessly, she pulled it to the other end of the table, opposite of Rhys and Feyre but next to the empty chair beside Lucien, who coughed into his arm to conceal his laugh. Every second of that silence was an ironic reminder of how little she cared for the pretentious gathering. To her, the harsh scraping was a small victory in comparison to the streak of defeat she had been enduring. 

Elara looked back towards Nesta, whose lips twitched upwards for a split second as she strode over to the newly placed chair, smoothing her skirts as she sat down in it. Satisfied with the new arrangement, Elara took her seat. She fought back a laugh at her own amusement, focusing on arranging her skirts nicely to conceal it. 

After more moments of dumbstruck quiet, it was Varian who finally broke the silence, asking Feyre about her art. Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of explosive comments. As servants brought rich-smelling food to the table, conversation flowed everywhere but in the direction of Elara and Nesta.

And Elara was perfectly fine with that, and she knew Nesta was too. The silence between them was comfortable and familiar, but neither of them touched their food. The rich scents were almost overwhelming, the anxiety over this dinner overshadowing your hunger. Elara wanted to scream at them to drop the facade of a friendly dinner and to be forthcoming with what they really wanted. But doing so would get her nowhere, so she bit her tongue. 

Besides, Being in the presence of the inner circle made Elara’s appetite nonexistent. So she pushed the veggies around her plate for the next half hour until plates were cleared, and the quiet end of the table was addressed for the first time.

“How’s the training going, Nesta?” Morrigan asked. It seemed genuine enough, but from the way Nesta tensed beside Elara, she could tell it was a pointed question.

“Wonderful.” Nesta said dryly, meeting her stare.

“What training?” Elara asked, confused. Not once had she seen Nesta with a blade, but whenever Cassian was on his way out of House of Wind, he stomped through the halls in a foul mood. Nesta even more so.

“Nesta’s learning how to fight,” Feyre said. “That’s why she’s here.”

“The training she’s apparently refusing to do.” Rhysand added.

Elara snorted. “Doesn’t the Night Court already have armies? I don’t see them here, if she was going to learn how to fight wouldn’t it be, you know, where the armies actually are?”

Rhysand’s eyes met hers. “Yes, we have armies,” He said in a low voice. “But Nesta needs to train anyway.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” Nesta hissed. 

“You do if you are in my court.” Rhysand growled.

“I did not ask to be here.”

Elara surveyed the table. Feyre’s eyes were red, as if she were about to burst into tears at any moment. Cassian looked concerned, while Mor and Amren seemed outright annoyed, huffing and puffing as they shook their heads. So many questions burned at Elara – why was Nesta being made to train to fight? Why here, locked away from the city? What happened between her and her sister?

Discreetly, Elara took Nesta’s hand under the table, rubbing a circle with her thumb. She felt a pair of almost glowing hazel eyes on her, and she looked up to see Azriel’s unreadable expression aiming right at her. But she decided to ignore it, focusing on Nesta’s touch instead.

I am with you, Elara reminded her through her gesture. 

“But why am I here?” Elara spoke up, trying to take the spotlight off of Nesta.. “I am healed now, why not send me back home? What reason do you have to keep me here?”

Another heavy silence filled the room, even Cassian had stopped eating. Eyes shifted, as if a silent conversation was occurring. Elara held her chin high, despite her nerves going haywire. The only people on her side at this table were Nesta and Lucien, both of whom already seemed kept at arms length by the Inner Circle to begin with. But she relented, facing the wolves that stared her down hungrily.

“We thought you might have some information about the Spring Court.” Rhysand began, clasping his hands together on the edge of the table. “Since you are here–”

Elara laughed sharply, cutting him off. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“I am not, and I suggest you listen.”

“Do you seriously think I’m going to betray my own court?” She spat, ignoring the High Lord. “Besides, isn’t Lucien the one with the job anyways?”

Her red-haired friend closed his eyes and sighed, no doubt knowing this was going to happen. Deep down, despite the weeks of no contact, she felt bad for him. It was no secret that Lucien was under no illusions that he was completely accepted in the Night Court. Just as no matter what happened tonight, Elara would never be either, not with their ties to Spring. Lucien was balancing on a wire, trying to help two courts who hated each other.

“Your father is one of Tamlin’s advisors,” Rhysand continued, ignoring Elara. “And Tamlin is an enemy. We just want to know–”

Rage pulsed through Elara at his cold, calculated words. She was glad that she did not possess any sort of magnificent power, because if she did, she was pretty sure the room would have erupted into flames.

“My father WAS one of Tamlin’s advisors,” Elara said tersely, ignoring the way the words hurt to drag out. “Now he is dead thanks to your High Lady destroying his court and leaving them vulnerable to Hybern. If you think I’m going to help you, you’re insane.”

“You will do as we say,” Rhysand growled, placing his hands on the table and standing up. “If you do not want to share what you know, we have other ways of getting it out of you. I have no problem going into that pretty head of yours and—”

Nesta stood up. “Do not threaten her.” She said, with the most vicious snarl Elara had ever seen. Silver fire glowed in her eyes, and she almost gasped at the sight. This was the power the Cauldron gave her, Elara realized. She looked like a goddess of war, staring at the High Lord with a challenge to dare lay a hand on either of them. 

“Or what, Nesta?” Rhysand asked, moving his arm to bring Feyre behind him. “What are you going to do?”

The entire table was still, as if bracing themselves to intervene if either fae launched themselves at one another. Elara had only known Nesta for just over two months, yet she was ready to challenge the High Lord in her defense, something which clearly confused the others at the table. The flames of the candles flickered angrily at the tense atmosphere, and Elara waited with bated breath. 

Despite her nervousness, Elara was grateful for Nesta’s support. The dynamic between the two of them was unique to any other friendship she had ever experienced, although she did not know if she could classify it as such. They were two females who had slighted the members of the court and forced into the House of Wind like dogs being sent to the kennel. And not to mention she still did not know much about how Nesta ended up in her situation.

For Elara, the Night Court saved her under the guise of a helping hand then planned to use it as leverage to try and get information on their enemy. It made her sick, how she was indebted to them and expected to be grateful. While the House of Wind was nice, she was a hostage there, just as much as Nesta. And Nesta was a much needed ally.

Caught between a mixture of wanting to defend herself and fearing what might become of her at Rhysand’s hands if she chose to do so, Elara shifted in her seat. Self preservation told her to be quiet, but she itched with the urge to pull Nesta back down into her seat, to fight her own battles. If Rhys wanted to smite her on the spot, he easily could. Not even Nesta could protect her from that. But the guilt relented – guilt at Nesta putting herself in a further precarious position with her sister’s family in Elara’s honour.

After several long moments, Nesta’s eyes returned to their original shade, whether it be from the High Lord’s magic demanding submission or her own volition. She cleared her throat, throwing one last glare across the table before grabbing Elara’s hand.

“Thank you for the meal, but I think we are done for tonight.” She said, pulling Elara up. She stumbled out of her chair slightly, confused but grateful all the same at Nesta’s need for a sudden departure. 

Elara didn’t bother turning around to see the faces of the Inner Circle as she fought to keep up with Nesta’s longer legs. Nesta led her out the door, her hand shaking slightly in Elara’s. The two walked in silence down the hallway towards their rooms, breaths unsteady in the thin mountain air. As they approached Elara’s door, Nesta dropped her hand rapidly before reaching for her own bedroom. 

It had been three days since Eris killed Beron in the dungeons. After it was done, the new High Lord ordered Azriel to take you to your room, where you would be guarded and seen by servants for your injuries. You had protested, wanting to join your mates in dealing with the aftermath of the days’ events, but were quickly shot down.

“Absolutely not.” Eris had said sternly. “You have been beaten senseless and need time to heal. There are going to be lots of angry individuals and people attempting to challenge me, and I will not have you anywhere near that. We will find you when things settle down, I promise.”

Additionally, he had mentioned that he would be blaming his father and brother’s death on Hybern assassins – they had snuck into the castle in an attempt to wipe out the Vanserra bloodline while they slept. The story was that Beron had been slain during his late night walk around the dungeons, the assassins had attempted to kill you as well, but Malgorm died defending you. Hence an explanation for your injuries and a way to keep you sheltered from the chaos of Eris’s transition to High Lord.

The idea that Malgorm would be perceived as a noble hero in the narrative made you roll your eyes, but Eris assured you that there wasn’t a single individual in this court who didn’t know how vile Malgorm truly was. It made you feel slightly better.

You had been bored out of your mind for the past three days. Your injuries were almost fully healed, thanks to the work of the healers. Nesta had come to visit you a few times, brushing your hair or holding you in her arms until you fell asleep again. You yearned for the additional comfort of Eris’s presence, but he was understandably busy. Nesta insisted he was remorseful for his lack of time to see you, but you could feel it through the bond already.

Part of you was still angry with Eris for hiding his knowledge of the bond. Deep down, you knew he did it out of concern for your safety, but even though you had come to terms with the idea of Eris being your mate, the betrayal still stung. You tried to ignore it – Eris had worked so hard and sacrificed so much to help you and Nesta, the least you could do was give him the benefit of the doubt. But with everything that had happened, there hadn’t been a good time to talk about it with him yet.

Lirilla had also paid you one or two visits over the past three days. She had thanked you over a dozen times, tearfully expressing how she owed you an eternal debt for bringing her back at the cost of never seeing your own mother again if you were to die. You had teared up in response, a hundred different emotions running through you. At first, you had expected to feel some faint resentment, knowing your mother’s soul had brought back the Lady of Autumn.

But there was none. In fact, you had an opportunity few others had – to say a proper goodbye to a departed loved one, and have one final moment wrapped in their embrace. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t cried into your pillow several times over the memory, clinging onto it as if it would fade away into the breeze. But somehow, having Lirilla alive and present helped you.

Night began to fall on the third day since Beron’s death, and it took you great effort to pry yourself out of the warm bubble bath a servant had drawn from you. Lavender and mint clung to your scent from the healing soaps you had used to scrub yourself raw, still feeling the sticky sensation of Malgorm’s blood being painted over you. No matter how many times you bathed, it wouldn’t go away.

After putting on a pale grey nightgown, you settled into bed to read when a soft knock sounded at your door. The inside of your chest warmed and fluttered like a cat purring, and you felt the bond glow with happiness. You knew who it was before the door even opened. “Come in, Nesta.” You called out, propping yourself up on the lush green pillows.

Nesta entered your room, still wearing her dark red dress from dinner. Half her hair was pulled back into a braid, the other half cascading down her back in elegant waves. In her hand was a plate of fresh strawberries, the unmistakable rich smell of chocolate coming from the small bowl beside the fruit. 

Your mouth watered. “Please tell me those are for me.” 

“No, I brought them all this way just to make you watch me eat them in front of you.” Nesta said dryly, closing the door behind her. “Of course they’re for you. I snagged them from dessert. Figured you’d want some.”

“Obviously.” You said, shifting more to the centre of the bed and patting the space next to you. The bed was absolutely massive, leaving tons of room for the female to come sit beside you. After kicking off her shoes and sliding under the thick covers, she settled the plate carefully on her lap. Wordlessly, you curled into Nesta’s side, resting your head on her chest and sighing contently. Slender fingers came up to tangle themselves in your hair, gently caressing the locks. Nesta’s free hand reached down and grabbed a strawberry, dipping it in the chocolate before bringing it to your lips. Eagerly, you lifted your head slightly and moaned as warm dark chocolate hit your tongue, along with the sweet taste of the freshest strawberry you’d ever had. 

“Mmm…” You mumbled, swallowing the delicacy. “I could die happy right now.”

With the hand that was stroking your hair, Nesta smacked you lightly. “Don’t you dare even joke about that,” She scolded. “You’ve had too many close calls for that to be even remotely funny.”

“Whatever. Feed me another chocolate covered strawberry and I’ll shut up about it.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but obliged, and you rested your head back on her chest after swallowing. You couldn’t help but notice how different she was now from when you first met her in the House of Wind. Her body had filled out, soft flesh hiding the brittle bones that used to stick out from underneath her pale skin. For Nesta to be relaxed enough to be this close to you as a huge change. She was not on edge, body tense and flinching with every shift in movement. Even when you had tentatively held her hand or brushed your knee against hers while in the Night Court, she seemed afraid of the contact, always tensing before relaxing into you.

Now, she showed no signs of anxiety. You knew that physical touch was not something that Nesta was used to, but you could tell through the bond that she was comfortable doing it with you. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” Nesta asked, noting your silence.

“You.” You said truthfully.

She snorted. “Care to elaborate?”

“You’re different now.” You admitted, choosing your words carefully. 

But her voice was curious, not defensive as she spoke. “How so?”

“I feel like you’re more… you. You’re not putting up a wall anymore. You seem more comfortable in your own skin, that’s all.”

You felt Nesta rest her cheek on the top of your head. “I do. You’ve helped me with that.”

You shook your head. “No, Nesta. That was all you.”

“Perhaps. But you being there by my side throughout all of this has helped.”

You hesitated before asking the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now. “Do you have any regrets about doing this?”

A moment of silence filled the room. Part of you had constantly asked yourself if you were dragging Nesta into your plan too much. As much as you knew she wanted out of the Night Court, to switch courts so quickly after having her entire life uprooted by the Cauldron was a drastic change. 

“No.” Nesta said confidently. “Not for a second. I have no desire to return to the Night Court. While I will always love my sisters, it is clear that they care about their image more than what is truly best for me. I have no place there in their little found family, and that does not bring me any sadness. Now, I am free to make my own decisions free of their scrutiny, and that brings me comfort. So no, I don’t regret taking this journey with you.”

You closed your eyes, the rhythmic stroking of Nesta’s fingers through your hair making you tired. “We have to talk about Cassian at some point. About all of us, about what comes next.”

You felt Nesta sigh. You knew she didn’t want to talk about Cassian, and neither did you. But he was convinced that he is Nesta’s mate, something that could potentially bring a threat. If he invoked a blood duel, Eris would certainly win with his new power as High Lord. But you? You stood no chance against the Lord of Bloodshed.

“You’re right.” Nesta said slowly. “But I think we need to wait for Eris before we have this conversation. It involves him, too.”

“You’re right. When will I get to see him?”

“He said he’d come here after his last meeting. He should be here soon.”

You sat up, reaching for the plate and grabbing another chocolate covered strawberry. You felt a bit of the chocolate smear on the side of your lip as you ungracefully popped the strawberry into your mouth, attempting to keep the expensive duvet free of mess. 

“You’ve got something on your face.” Nesta snorted.

You rolled your eyes at her. “Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you so much for pointing–”

Your sentence trailed off as Nesta reached down and slowly wiped the chocolate off your lip with her finger. You watched with wide eyes as she then took that chocolate covered finger and closed her lips around it, sucking the chocolate off. Her blue-grey eyes never left yours as she did so, making your body tingle.

“That was one of the top five hottest things you've done.” You said, causing Nesta to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, you have a list now, do you?” She murmured, amusement across her sharp face.

You shrugged nonchalantly, but heat flooded your cheeks. Truthfully, everything Nesta did was absolutely mesmerising to you. It was almost impossible to actually think of five moments that stood out. “Maybe.” Was all you mumbled in response.

Nesta simply chuckled, then leaned down and sensually pressed her lips to yours. You moaned into her mouth, melting into the touch. It was different from the tender two kisses you shared previously – ones that were gentle and soft, as if you were both afraid that the other would disappear from in front of you at any moment. No, this kiss was more passionate, sending goosebumps up your arms despite the warmth of the room. She tasted like chocolate and wine, and it took all your self control not to simply melt right there and then.

When Nesta eventually pulled away, she cradled your head back into her chest. You were so comfortable, encased in the expensive fabric of the lush bedsheets and cuddled up against Nesta’s side. A distinct knock on the door snapped you back to consciousness. “Three guesses who that is.” You muttered groggily.

Nesta snorted, but called out, “Come in, Eris.” 

Surely enough, the door swung open to reveal Eris. His red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he was dressed in his sleepwear of a white tunic with long, billowy sleeves tucked into loose brown pants. Despite the casual look, the soft hum of power coming from the male made it hard to mistake him as anything other than a High Lord.

“How’d you know it was me?” Eris asked, closing the door behind him as he sauntered into your room.

“Oh please, you knock like a pampered princess.” You said playfully, popping another strawberry in your mouth.

Eris narrowed his eyes at the delicately placed bowl of melted chocolate on Nesta’s thigh. “Please tell me you’re not getting chocolate on my expensive bed sheets.” 

“You’re High Lord, can’t you just use your fancy new power to remove any spills?” 

“Ugh, please don’t remind him he’s High Lord.” Nesta insisted, rolling her eyes. “It’ll get to that pretty head of his and he’ll become even more insufferable than he already is. Besides, he hardly needs reminding with how much he throws his new title in everyone’s faces every two seconds.”

You laughed, causing Eris to look down at you from where he was standing at the end of the bed, pressing a pale hand to his chest with mock hurt. “Your cruelty wounds me,” He sighed. “I do not know what I did to deserve such treatment.”

“You make it too easy.” You patted the space next to you on your other side. Eris scoffed, but peeled back the covers and crawled under them anyway, sliding right next to you and resting his back against one of the many pillows behind you. You leaned forward and grabbed another chocolate covered strawberry, bringing it up in front of his face. “Here you go, oh mighty High Lord.” You said dramatically.

The male raised an eyebrow, but kept his amber eyes on yours as he leaned forward and gently took the fruit from your hand with his mouth, lips brushing your fingers ever so slightly. You suppressed a shiver at the sensation, trying to ignore Eris’s moan as he savoured the rich chocolate. You straightened up, no longer leaning against Nesta’s chest but instead still keeping your shoulder pressed against hers.

“Delicious.” Eris muttered after swallowing. “And exactly what I needed after today.”

“What did you get up to today?” You asked. “Or any of the past three days, since I haven’t been allowed outside of this room to see for myself.”

Eris shot you a light glare. “As both of us have explained to you several times, you are in here because we need to wait until things settle for a few days. Right now, you are vulnerable. Both physically and in terms of your position as an unwed and unengaged female. While I intend to eliminate anyone with the same mindset as my father regarding females of your status who refuse to change, they might not yet be revealing themselves. Many have tried to challenge me these past few days, and every one of them has been turned to ash. I need to ensure nobody will come after you.”

You sighed, knowing Eris was right. A female like you without ties to a male would be an easy target for those looking to cling to Beron’s ways. You briefly wondered exactly how many people Eris had slain in his first few days of being High Lord, but dared not ask. “Did everyone believe the story about Hybern assassins being responsible?” You chose to ask instead.

“Mostly.” Eris said. “Those who seemed suspicious have been dealt with. But it matters not. I am High Lord now, and the court knows that if they dare question how I came to be in this position, they will not live to see the next sunrise.”

“So what happens now?” Nesta spoke up. “With the three of us, I mean. And we still have the Night Court to deal with, not to mention Cassian.”

“Given your sister’s situation with her pregnancy, I believe the Night Court will be occupied by that for the next while.” Eris said. “She is due soon, is she not?”

Nesta nodded, but said nothing. 

“Can we help Feyre?” You asked hesitantly, feeling Nesta’s turmoil through the bond. While she did not part on good terms with her sister, you could tell she felt anguish at the idea of Feyre dying because of this pregnancy. And as much as you disliked the High Lady, you did not wish such a fate upon her either.

Eris spoke with caution. “I have spoken with our best healers. And to be truthful, yes, we have the means of removing the baby surgically rather than having little Archeron try to deliver the child naturally. But I do not think it’s a question of whether or not we can, but whether or not we should.”

You blinked in surprise, feeling Nesta tense beside you. “What do you mean?” You asked. “If we have a way to save her life, why not use it?”

Eris shifted slightly, turning on his side to face you. “Because it is leverage we can use against them. A bargaining tool. We could promise to save the High Lady’s life on the condition that they leave us alone, permanently. That they are never to enter our court without permission, including the brute.”

You bit your tongue. Nesta was silent beside you, her expression unreadable. “Nesta?” You asked quietly, pressing your arm into her. “What do you think we should do?”

There was a minute of silence before she straightened her spine, grey eyes finally landing on you and Eris as she spoke. “The Feyre I knew who went under the mountain is gone.” She said, her voice like steel. “Once she accepted the mating bond, she changed. Rhys changed her. The Feyre I knew would never just sit by and let her mate make the decisions for her. The Feyre I knew would never have sent me to be locked up if Rhys hadn’t planted the idea in her head first. She used Elain as a bargaining chip to strong arm me into doing her bidding. If she has no qualms about using our lives for her own gain, then I have no issue doing the same with hers. But under one condition. Feyre has to agree to it. Hers is the only opinion that matters. Rhys cannot accept the terms, only she can. It will be her choice, and her choice alone.”

Eris nodded respectfully. “Very well then. Once everything settles further over the next week or so, I will set up a meeting with the Night Court and we can propose our bargain.”

“Cassian can’t be there.” Nesta said suddenly. “I can’t see him. Please.”

“We won’t let him try and take you,” You grabbed her hand, holding it reassuringly. “I promise.”

Nesta bit her lip, worry lining her features. “He thinks we’re mates. I don’t trust him not to try something.”

“Cassian does not stand a chance against us.” Eris said calmly, fiddling with the emerald ring on his finger. “Although I am curious as to why he is acting like a mated male when Estelle said he is not mated to you, Nesta. There’s something else at work here, maybe having him at the meeting will allow us to figure out what it is.”

Nesta hesitated, but exhaled softly. “Fine. Cassian can be there. But the dragons will come to the meeting.”

“They will be delighted.” Eris chuckled. “I am sure they will happily eat anyone who dares protest against our lovely mating bonds.”

You went still, the soft sheets of the bed suddenly stifling. Aside from your brief moment after saving Lirilla, you hadn’t yet acknowledged or discussed your mating bond with Eris yet. With Nesta it was easier, as you had plenty more time together to mull things over. But with Eris, it all happened so fast. The High Lord duties swept him away from you before you could even propose the discussion.

“Eris…” You said carefully after a few moments. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew we were mates?”

At first, the male did not reply. Eris Vanserra usually had a witty reply for everything, a silver tongue that came up with a response within a half second no matter how unprepared he was for the question. So you turned to face him. Eris’s expression was one of regret, tender sadness in his usually stone cold eyes. But the mask was off. He had no need for it anymore.

“There were so many things happening at once.” Eris said slowly. “I did not know how you would react, truthfully. We all needed to be focused, just until we were safe from my father. I did not want to risk compromising what I’ve been working towards for years. It is selfish, I am well aware. But it is the truth. If you knew about the bond, who knows how different things could have been? And if anyone found out, it would be used against us. I could not let that happen.”

The High Lord swallowed thickly, his slender hand gently coming to cover your fingers as he continued. “I know what a breach of trust this was, little fox, especially after you put your faith in me. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it, because I selfishly cannot stand the idea of you hating me for it.” 

You inhaled a shaky breath, wetness lining your eyes. You felt Nesta rubbing your back comfortingly, as if she, too, felt your pain through the bond. “I don’t hate you for it.” You said quietly. “I understand your reasoning, I just wish none of this had to be this way.”

Eris smiled sadly. “I wish that very much, too. Although this path has led me to you, to Nesta. So despite everything, I have no other regrets about how things played out.”

“Me too.” Nesta said from behind you, squeezing your shoulder. “It was all worth it to get out of that situation, to end up with both of you.”

Your heart fluttered as you smiled. Even though the past months have been hell, they lead you to Nesta and Eris. Everything you had been through, it was all worth it to get here. Because you knew that even though the horrors you had endured would keep you up at night, you’d have your mates to ease the pain.

But your smile faded as reality sunk back in. “What about the wedding?” You asked. “If you two are getting married, where does that leave me? I know marriage is a sham at the end of the day, and the mating bond is what truly connects us. But I admit that I will not feel like an equal if you two are wed.”

You felt the bed shift as Eris straightened beside you. A hint of a blush came over his cheeks as he coughed before speaking. “Well, I thought of a solution for that. It’s a bit outlandish, and something that would definitely make the majority of this court lose their minds over it. And don’t be afraid to tell me I am a fool for this, Mother knows everyone else will be–”

“Eris.” Nesta said sharply, cutting off the male’s rambling. “Spit it out already.”

You could feel Eris’s nerves in your chest as if they were your own. You had never seen him so flustered before, so unsure of what to say. 

“Well,” He continued, taking a deep breath. “It is not unheard of in Pythian’s history for a High Lord to take two wives…”

“You’d want to marry both of us?” Nesta said incredulously.

Eris blushed further, his eyes narrowing angrily at the heat of his cheeks. “Well, it would be a good way to ensure you are both protected–”

“Stop.” You cut him off firmly, squeezing his hand. Eris was silenced immediately, doubt flickering in his eyes as if he were afraid this would happen. “Fuck the political scheming and doing everything for the sake of a plan. We’ve made it this far, guys. It’s time to think about what we want, not what we should do. So, Eris, what do you want?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have you both as my wives…”

Nesta snorted. “A heartfelt proposal, Eris. Well done.”

Eris shot a playful glare at the female. “Smartass. Watch it, or I’ll leave your finger without a ring and keep (Y/N) all to myself.”

“Oh, please. You’re too obsessed with me to do that.”

“I am afraid you are right, Nesta Archeron.”

The three of you laughed, the harmony of it echoing throughout the spacious room like a song. But Nesta’s serious tone returned, cutting the laughter off. “But seriously, Eris, are you proposing this because this is what you want, or because of the mating bond?”

Eris shifted as he reached forward, taking each of you and Nesta’s hands in his own. The authority of the High Lord rang in his voice as he spoke, his amber eyes meeting Nesta’s blue-grey ones. “Make no mistake, I am happy about the mating bond. But it does not create this desire from nothing. It merely amplifies what is already there. The desire to marry you, Nesta, began the day we danced together in the Hewn City. I knew then that I wanted you as my equal at my side. I wanted you because you were you, sharp tongue and all, not because a mating bond made it be so.” 

Eris then turned to face you. “The desire to marry you, (Y/N), began the day you came to me with your plan. I saw your resilience, your brilliant mind, and I wanted you. Not for your magic, or your connection to the Mother. I didn’t even know you were my mate then, or that you possessed a unique power, and I wanted you. My desire for both of you did not come from wanting something from you, or because of a mating bond. You asked me what I wanted, (Y/N), and this is it. I want you and Nesta as my equals, my wives, my High Ladies by my side. If that is what you wish, of course.”

You teared up, seeing Nesta do the same. Eris spoke so fiercely, so passionately it pulled at your heart strings. All this time, you had prepared yourself to see Eris and Nesta marry for political convenience, leaving you on the side with your secret ancient vows to Nesta that could never be shared with the outside world. You had prepared yourself to put aside your feelings for Eris, and your feelings for Nesta, to once again make a sacrifice for the ones you loved.

But you didn’t have to do that. Somehow, along the way Nesta and Eris had fallen for each other. And you had fallen for Eris, and he for you. The bond the three of you shared was deeper than any mating bond – it was a bond of survival, of fighting for a better life. A life you now couldn’t imagine sharing with anyone else.

“I would like that very much.” You said through tears, squeezing Eris’s hand.

“And I as well.” Nesta said softly. “Although I never thought of being High Lady.”

“You are both free to pass on that,” Eris said. “It would simply be an added bonus. But you both have enough power to be my equal as High Ladies, and you would be free to be as involved or removed from court politics as you wish.”

You glanced at Nesta, meeting her eyes. You knew Nesta had never possessed any ambitions to become a leader. She was content to simply exist in her own life, as long as she had control over it.

But this opportunity Eris was presenting could be used to help people. All you wanted was to make Autumn safe for females in a way Rhysand failed to do with his own court. Perhaps instead of relying on Eris to make it happen, you could do it yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You said.

“Me neither.” Nesta replied, nodding. “If my sister can be High Lady, so can I.”

“Feyre Archeron does not know how to run a court,” Eris snorted. “You’re the sister much better suited to the job.”

“One more thing.” You interjected, turning to Nesta. “Technically, we are already married due to the spell we used to create the daemati bond. But I would like to redo it, with a proper wedding. That way, the world will know that we aren’t just married to Eris, but to each other as well. I want everyone to know you’re just as much mine as Eris’s. If you’ll have me.”

It was not how you could have ever imagined proposing to Nesta, fumbling over your words so casually as if you were suggesting trying a new food for lunch. But it felt right. You wanted to be married to Nesta properly, in the eyes of the world. True, you had known her for less than a year. But you knew in your heart you would want to marry her eventually – why not now while she was already marrying Eris?

Nesta’s lips twitched for a second, as if she were instinctively fighting off her smile. But then her face loosened, and she allowed her smile to stretch across her cheeks fully. “Of course I’ll have you, you fool.” She said softly. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

“In that case, I shall inform the priestess so she can modify the ceremony.” Eris said, grinning in a way that made your heart sing. “If my father could see this, he would lose his mind. As will many members of the court, probably. Having two High Ladies married to each other and me will be a lot for them to comprehend.”

“It’s actually possible, right?” Nesta asked him. “For all three of us to be married?”

“There is no law or religious text that prevents it, my dear.” Eris reassured her. “It will be legitimate, I swear.”

You smiled, another tear of happiness slipping down your cheek. “So this is really happening, we’re all getting married?”

Eris nodded. “Yes, love. We are. And we can take as much time as we want to plan the wedding so it’s exactly how we want it, not how my father wanted it to be. It will be a day about all three of us.”

It was like a heavy boulder had been lifted off your chest. All of the anxiety of the past few weeks was gone, replaced by pure happiness at the idea of marrying Nesta and Eris. Before, the talk of a wedding filled you with dread, a reminder that you were engaged to a cruel male who would delight in torturing you however he could. The idea of a wedding made you feel sick, and sad at the same time knowing you’d have no say in any of the planning.

But with Eris as High Lord and your soon to be new position as High Lady, everything would be different. You would be able to pick out your dress, the flowers, the cake, everything. After months and months of having no control over your life, you were finally taking the reins back.

You wrapped your arms around Eris, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “Thank you.” You muttered.

When Eris pulled away, his amber eyes burned into yours. It ignited something in you, making your blood sing as his voice dropped as he spoke. “I know by tradition I am supposed to wait until the wedding to kiss my brides. But I would really like to kiss you now. Both of you.”

“Fine by me.” You said, your heart racing and drowning out the sound of your own voice.

Eris smirked, his hands coming up to either side of your face to cup your jaw. Towering over you, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your own. Instantly, it was like a tidal wave of lust surged through the bond, as you melted into his mouth. It wasn’t the seductive, claiming kiss you had expected an Autumn court male like Eris to give. It was just as sensual, but softer, like a warm hearth rather than blazing wildfire. It was a kiss of love, of promise for a better world.

Your hands brushed the fabric of Eris’s tunic as he kissed you, and you felt the male shiver beneath your touch. When his lips finally abandoned yours, you let out an involuntary whine at the loss of contact. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” Eris purred, his thumb stroking your cheek. “There will be plenty of time for more later.”

 The High Lord then turned towards Nesta, taking her hands in his own. You watched as he leaned forward, kissing her with the same tenderness he had with you. Nesta’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact, her body relaxing. They were like a scene from a painting. Nesta’s wavy locks contrasting with the fiery straight hair of Eris, their heads angled so perfectly as their lips moulded together with longing. 

As you watched your mates kiss, you felt no jealousy. No anger. No feeling of exclusion. You only felt love – happiness that the two people you cared for most loved each other just as much as you loved them.

Your wrists were sweating beneath the cuffs that adorned your wrists. Every inch of your body trembled, remembering the last time you had been chained up. It was necessary, you reminded yourself. Beron had to see you as a prisoner, as much as you hated that role you needed to look the part.

The servants had put you in a tattered gown and covered your skin in smears of dirt and grime. You looked very convincing, almost too convincing. Every time you glanced down at yourself, that cold, familiar feeling washed over you - the one that made your heart stop beating for a split second and left you wondering if you were back in Rhysand’s dungeons. The servants’ eyes were sympathetic as they tied the gag around your mouth as gently as possible, quietly offering you words of comfort through your tears.

Nesta and Eris were already in the throne room with Beron. They had been in there for a few minutes, but it had felt like hours. Two of Eris’ personal guards stood on either side of you - Saeros and Ivar were their names, they had politely informed you. You wondered how many other people in the Autumn Court were secretly loyal to Eris rather than their current High Lord. At the very least, it gave you confidence that Eris’s succession would go smoothly.

Saeros, a tall male with long brown hair and a stern face gently squeezed your arm. It's time, he seemed to say. You nodded subtly, understanding. After a deep breath, you began thrashing wildly in their grip just as the heavy doors to the throne room swung open. You kicked and rocked back and forth, screaming through the gag. The guards held you firm, dragging you across the ground towards the throne. You dared not sneak a glance to the right side of the bottom steps, knowing Nesta and Eris stood there. You focused on your performance, putting up a hell of a fight. Eventually, you ended up on your knees right before the bottom of the throne stairs. You forced your eyes upwards and were met with the sneering face of Beron Vanserra.

His slender face was twisted in a mix of disgust and glee. Ageing brown hair was too slicked back, reminding you of a snakeskin. His eyes were so dark brown they were basically black - bottomless dark voids of hatred that knew new bounds. A golden crown sat upon his head, a bright red jewel in the centre of it. Bony fingers gripped the sides of his throne, knuckles white. He was sizing you up like you were his next meal, and you tried not to squirm underneath his gaze.

“Consider this your Autumn Equinox gift from me, father.” Eris’s smug voice filled the room as the guards removed your gag. “One of Rhysand’s spies, (Y/N), was found at the border. She claims she’s fleeing from him, and is seeking sanctuary.”

Beron’s eyes gleamed even more. “Is that true?”

You gulped, forcing yourself to shake slightly in fear. “Yes, my Lord.”

“And why would you be running away from your master?” The male sneered. “I don’t believe it for a second, girl. For all we know, he sent you here to spy on us.”

“He did not.” You let the tears you had summoned fall down along your cheeks. “I swear by the Mother, my Lord.”

Beron rolled his eyes and huffed. He turned to Eris as if you were no longer there. “Why did you even bother bringing her here, boy?” He growled at his son. “This is not my problem. Send her back to Rhysand, or just kill her and be done with it. I couldn’t care less.”

“I have intel.” You blurted out, remembering the angle Eris had told you to play. “Valuable intel that could change everything. I will tell you everything I know if you give me sanctuary. Please, my Lord, I beg you.”

Something in Beron’s gaze shifted, as he seemingly contemplated the weight of your words. He paused for a moment before speaking. “You’re not from the Night Court originally, are you?” You opened your mouth to speak, but the High Lord cut you off before you could form any words. “I’ve been around long enough to tell which court someone belongs to, girl. The Night Court stench that clings to you is not very strong, so you clearly haven’t been there long. You stink of flowers, so I assume it is the Spring Court you originate from?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your eyes burned into the floor, and it took all your willpower not to glance at Eris and Nesta. They were so close, yet so far away.

“And how does a girl from the Spring Court end up as one of Rhysand’s spies, only to flee from him less than a year into the job?”

“My father was one of Tamlin’s closest advisors. When Hybern came, I was the only one of my family to survive. My entire village was gone, so I wandered until one of Rhysand’s spies found me.” You decided to leave out that it was Lucien who found you. “They took me in and kept me prisoner, my only way to have a chance at living a life was to spy for them in return for my life being saved. I trained under the Spymaster, and was sent on several small missions to Spring. I hated it, and wanted out. But one day I overheard something…” You shook your shoulders, letting your voice trail off.

“Go on.” Beron snapped with little patience.

“Apologies, my Lord.” You continued. You could feel Nesta and Eris’s gazes burning into you as you put on a performance. “The Spymaster and Rhysand spoke of a weapon, a Made weapon. One that the High Lord could use to claim the title of High King and take over all of Prythian.”

Beron’s face went red with anger, and you resisted the urge to chuckle. His hands gripped the throne so tightly you were surprised it didn’t shatter. 

“Father, if Rhysand intends to seize that title–” Eris spoke up but was cut off.

“I’d sooner spend a thousand years being tortured in Hel before I kneel to that half-breed scum!” Spit was practically flying out of the High Lord’s mouth as he yelled, outraged. “I will slaughter him and his entire court before I let him take my own!”

You finally caught a glimpse of Eris as he left Nesta’s side and walked up the steps to his father. You willed your cheeks not to flush as you caught sight of him. His deep red tunic was clinging to his frame, a pattern suited for none other than royalty. His hair was pulled back in a simple braid, with a few loose jaw-length strands framing his face. Eris whispered something in his father’s ear, but he was so quiet even your fae hearing could not make out his words. Whatever he said worked, as he retreated back to Nesta’s side and Beron began to calm down. His face returned to its normal ashy colour as he settled back into his throne. 

“Now, why would Rhysand becoming High King make you run away?” Beron asked, all too calmly. “Surely you’d benefit from it, being a member of his court after all.”

“Because when he found out I knew, he imprisoned and tortured me.” You didn’t have to fake the tremor in your voice this time as you recalled the cold dungeon.

“And yet you got out.”

“They let me out to complete a mission, and I used it as an opportunity to run.”

Beron’s eyes narrowed, and fear churned in your gut. If he did not believe you, then this was all for nothing. You silently pleaded for help, yet you weren’t even sure to whom. All you could think of was keeping your racing heart from exploding out of your chest.

“She’s telling the truth, father.” Eris piped up, as if he had heard your pleas.

“And how do you know that?” The High Lord’s voice was dry and bored, which worried you even more.

“I noticed fresh wounds on her back when I found her.”

“Show me.”

At Beron’s command, Eris stepped towards you. You met his amber gaze, which was stone cold. It lacked the warmth that had been present a few hours ago in the dining room. This was the mask that Eris had worn for centuries. You had never quite gotten used to it, to how easily he slipped in and out of his guise.

Eris nodded at the guards, who turned you around so your back was facing the throne. Before you could register what was happening, the prince’s slender hands gripped the neckline of your dress from behind and pulled. A loud ripping sound echoed throughout the room as Eris pulled your dress in half, exposing your wounded back. Shame rushed through your veins as you felt the cold air on your backside, which was clearly on display to the High Lord now.

You whimpered, not entirely for show as embarrassment flooded your cheeks. Beron stared at you for what you thought was too long before the guards turned you back to face him. “He did a number on you, girl.” Beron chuckled humourlessly. You could tell by his tone that he almost admired the bloody artwork on your back. Beron Vanserra was no stranger to amusement from torture - that you knew.

“My Lord,” Nesta’s voice spoke up like music to your ears. “You called me in here to display my powers, did you not? May I suggest we get on with it?”

You tensed at Nesta’s brazen challenge. It was stupid to speak to the male in such a tone in his own throne room, and you half expected him to simply scoff and smite Nesta to ash right there and then. But instead, Beron simply huffed. “Very well. Impress me, Nesta Archeron, and I shall allow you to marry my eldest son. If not…”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence for it to be understood that it was a threat. For the first time, you glanced at Nesta. Her hair was neatly braided as usual, and she wore a dark red gown bearing the same pattern as Eris’s tunic. It had a high neckline and long sleeves, a thousand times more modest than anything in the Night Court. Yet it suited her, and brought about an elegance that enhanced her beauty even more.

Nesta only nodded, and the guards hauled you off to the side. Nesta took your place at the bottom of the throne, smoothing her skirts. For a second, her gaze fluttered to Eris, who gave her a reassuring nod. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. When she opened them again they glowed silver, and you noticed Beron sitting forward in his seat. Silver flames began to whorl around her fingertips, dancing like leaves in the wind as they scattered throughout the room.

Nesta’s entire body began to glow as more and more fire poured out of her. You glanced at Beron again, seeing panic in his eyes as the flames rushed towards him. They leapt over him like a wave, and it was only a few seconds before you felt another wall of silver fire headed towards you and your guards. Yet you did not feel any fear, only a deep sense of trust that whatever happened, Nesta’s flames wouldn’t hurt you. They cocooned around you, trapping you inside them but never touching you. Through the flickers, you could just make out the same thing happening to Eris, Beron, and everyone else in the room. Nesta had bathed the entire room in her silver fire, yet did not harm a soul. It was to exemplify control, to show Beron that she could manipulate the magic to do whatever she, or Beron, wanted.

The noise of the flames was not a harsh, crackling noise like most fires. It was soothing, like the tide of the ocean or the rush of wind on a summer’s eve. The flames danced and sang to you, a force so strong you could practically hear words emitting from them in an ancient tongue.

After a few moments, the flames retreated to Nesta’s side. Like a tsunami, they pulled in behind her glowing figure and arched over fifteen feet in the air. Everyone’s mouth was agape as the flames moulded and shaped themselves into a dragon’s head identical to Athariel’s. Nesta remained glowing at the base of the dragon’s neck, its head arching above her like a protective dog. She was completely and utterly still, as if her mind was both present and relieving the memories of an ancient god from a millenia ago at the same time.

You swallowed thickly, emotion overcoming you. Months ago, Nesta had been too afraid to summon even a flame. Now, here she was, shaping her fire into majestic serpents with full control over them. You were proud, but couldn’t help the pang in your chest. Nesta had faced so many challenges while you were stuck in a cell, unable to witness her growth. It was time you could never get back.

Without struggling, the silver flames retreated, fading into Nesta’s fingertips as they went out. When she opened her eyes again, they were their normal shade of grey. You looked around, expecting to see a room scorched. But there was no damage - the flames did not burn anything.

The room is utterly silent for a few minutes, Beron’s expression unreadable. Even Eris was shuffling on his feet, nervousness apparent. Finally, the High Lord spoke. “Consider me impressed, Nesta Archeron.” His voice was suspiciously kind, and both you and Eris blinked in surprise at the same time. “And consider yourself having my blessing for this marriage with my son.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Nesta said, bowing her head.

“Wonderful.” Beron clapped his hands together. “We shall have the wedding in two months' time, and (Y/N)’s wedding the month after.”

Every bone in your body froze. “What?” Was all you managed to stutter through your dry throat.

Beron smiled, an unsettling gesture. “I accept your request for sanctuary in exchange for information, as the intel you provided is crucial in the survival of my court.” He said smoothly. “Yet you seem to have a habit of bouncing between courts, so I will assure that you remain here where I can keep an eye on you. You shall be marrying Melgorm, my second youngest son. You are from a respectable family, are you not? You should be honoured at the chance to marry someone from a royal bloodline.”

You glanced over at Eris, whose mask had fallen entirely. His face was one of pure horror, panic settling over his amber eyes. You weren’t sure if you were still breathing, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. You had heard stories of Eris and Lucien’s brothers, none of them good. 

“Have chambers prepared for the lady.” Beron ordered the guards. “You will all be staying here as wedding preparations are made. This meeting is over. Congratulations to the happy couples.” The High Lord’s smile was one of pure evil and gloating as he drank in your distress. 

You felt numb as the guards dragged you to your new chambers, locking the door behind you as you entered the room.

 *********************

Over the next half hour, you scrubbed the dirt off your skin in the bath and changed into a soft, gold nightgown. You had hardly felt the scalding water, nor the harsh scrapes of the brush as you tried to scrub away the memories of that entire interaction. Every time you thought about Beron’s smiling face as he announced he was marrying you off, you felt ill.

You had not been naive growing up – you knew most marriages between noble High Fae families were arranged and as a result, often loveless at best. But you remembered the haunting fear in Lucien's eyes as he cried to you over the cruel things his brothers had done. You had accepted long ago that you would likely not marry for love, but this… this would be worse than a loveless marriage. It would be a whole new kind of torture.

As you sat lifelessly on the bed, a sharp gust of air swirled behind you, causing you to spin around. You yelped in surprise as you were met with Nesta and Eris. “Dammit, don't do that,” You hissed. “You made me jump out of my skin!” 

You expected a witty comeback from Eris, but none came. His face was grave, and Nesta’s was filled with rage. They were both still dressed in their attire from the meeting. “I’m so sorry.” Eris blurted out. “I had no idea he would do that. I swear by it.”

“I believe–” You tried to speak but Eris continued rambling.

“If I had known he was going to do that I would have never–”

“Eris!” You practically yelled. “I believe you. It’s not your fault.”

The prince’s eyes were glassy as he walked around the bed and kneeled in front of you. He took your hands in his own and pressed his forehead against them. “Forgive me.” He muttered.

“Eris,” You said softly. “It’s ok.”

Amber eyes gazed up at you, even as his hands still tightly clung on to your own. He did not rise from his kneeling position. “No, it’s not.” He said. “You don’t know Malgorm. He is the worst of all my brothers. He makes my father look like a bunny rabbit.”

You felt the bed dip behind you and a familiar hand rubbed your shoulder. Nesta’s presence steadied you as she sat behind you, the warmth of her hand easing the shock from your body.

“Malgorm does not view females as people, but rather toys for his own personal amusement.” Eris continued. “None of his lovers have been his on their own free will. He does not hesitate to inflict pain on them, humiliate them, force himself…”

“Eris…” Nesta warned, her hand squeezing your shoulder even tighter.

“My point is, my father knows exactly damn well exactly what kind of monster his second youngest son is. I strongly suspect he wants to marry you to him because he hopes that he’ll kill you or just lock you away somewhere. That way he won’t have to worry about you becoming a problem.”

“So how do we stop it?” Nesta asked, her voice sharp like razors.

“We can’t.” Eris sighed, resting his chin on your knee. “Not while Beron is alive.”

“So then we kill him.” Nesta argued defiantly.

“If it was that simple don’t you think I’d have done it already? No, it takes planning. And time. Time to ensure that when I overthrow him, we for one, have a cover story; and two, have enough people on my side that there won’t instantly be a coup.”

You gently untangled one of your hands from his and then combed your fingers through his silky hair. “It’ll be ok.” You reassured him as you stroked the locks. “Plans change all the time. We just have to adapt.”

Eris sighed, closing his eyes and ever so slightly leaning into your touch. Nesta leaned forward gently and rested her head on your shoulder, sighing deeply. “This is bad.” She muttered. “This is really, really bad.”

“Yes,” You said firmly, heart fluttering at her and Eris’s closeness to you. “But we can’t change the past, so now we just have to figure out how to move forward. Eris, how much power is needed to take down a High Lord?”

“A lot.” The Prince mumbled.

“No shit.” You snorted. “Between the three of us, do you think we have enough?”

“Two of us.” Eris corrected. “You’re taking no part in this.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You haven’t trained your powers,” He said firmly. “It’s too risky to have you anywhere near this when it goes down.”

You scoffed, furious. “So I’m just supposed to stand by while you two risk your lives killing a High Lord? No, not gonna happen.”

“Dammit, (Y/N)!” Nesta snapped, silencing the room. “We just got you back. We’re not losing you again.”

You went quiet, tears welling in your eyes. You hated feeling useless, shackled down by your inability to be like everyone else. But deep down you knew they were right. Frankly, you weren’t even sure what you could do with your powers, let alone how to wield them. All you’d done is accidentally explode a mountain cave, and you didn’t even know what you were doing. 

The Archeron sister inhaled deeply. “Eris and I will take care of Beron, end of story. Now, when we were still in the House of Wind, you said you had more planned for the Night Court.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Although frankly the rest of it was just vague ideas, I wasn’t even sure we’d make it this far to be honest.”

“Ye of little faith.” Eris chuckled, patting your hand. “So, little fox, what else is in this master revenge plan of yours? Was burning down the Inner Circle’s houses not enough?”

“No.” Your voice was firm. “That was just the beginning. I want to make sure their entire court knows how horrible they are. I want them to lose all their power.”

“And how do you plan on that?” The male beneath you asked, still resting his head in your hand.

You took a deep breath. You hadn’t uttered a word of this part of your plan to anyone, even Nesta. It had always seemed too big, too far away to be realistic. But it was here. You’d made it this far. “The women in the Night Court who don’t live in Velaris have suffered for too long.” You began. “I want to help them, to show them that just because their High Lord doesn’t care about them doesn’t mean others don’t. When Beron is overthrown, I need things in Autumn to change, Eris. I want this to become a court that’s safe for women, where they won’t have to worry about being mutilated or sold off like livestock.

“We can bring the Valkyrie training program here. Teach women how to fight and defend themselves if that’s what they wish. Create a village for females who have been traumatised by males and want to live in peace. Like the Library in the House of Wind, but less isolated. Once word gets out, we offer sanctuary to any females suffering – from Night Court or any court. Once the females start leaving Night, the males will turn on each other. The entire court will crumble.”

The room was silent for a minute before Eris spoke. “My dear, changing the ways of this court will take time…”

You cut him off. “No. That’s Rhysand’s exact excuse. You will be High Lord, Eris. Your word is law, and you can write and rewrite them as you wish. Anyone who opposes you can face the consequences. Make an example of those who oppose the loudest.”

“But then he’d be just like Beron.” Nesta protested.

“Beron used his power to enforce laws of hate,” You countered. “To make people's lives worse. You can use it to make them better, even if it's at the cost of some of the uptight males.”

You heard Eris chuckle into your leg, his amber eyes glinting. You yanked on his hair, not missing the way his throat bobbed. “What’s so funny?” You demanded.

“You’re just so sexy when you’re plotting revenge and the downfall of an enemy court.” Eris purred, rubbing your thigh ever so slightly with his hand. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, and you felt yourself heat up at the contact. Nesta chuckled, her sweet breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. With your mate behind you, her lips so close to your skin, and the silver tongued Autumn prince still kneeling in front of you, the room suddenly felt a lot warmer.

“Speaking of sexy and plotting revenge, there’s someone who I think could be of great use to this plan.” Eris continued.

Nesta frowned. “Who?”

Eris smirked, lifting his head and nodding towards the empty corner of the room. The darkness began to shift, familiar shadows curling to the side to reveal a dark set of leathers, accompanied by a pair of leathery wings and hazel eyes. 

The Spymaster of the Night Court.

“What the fuck?” You practically yelled as Azriel stepped into the light. Nesta’s arm went in front of you protectively, her eyes smouldering.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Azriel said quietly, his scarred hands at his sides. “I’m working with Eris.”

“You… what?” You sputtered. Nesta was utterly still, like a lioness poised to strike at any second. While Azriel had refused to kill you and disobeyed Rhysand’s orders, you couldn’t forget how he grabbed you and put you in that cell. How you’d seen that dark side of the shadowsinger that everyone in Prythian feared.

“He and I began working together right before we rescued you.” Eris explained. “He told us where you were, and we began meeting in secret after that.”

“Why?” Your answers were limited to a few words, as you reeled with shock.

“Rhysand has been very shaken up by your escape,” Azriel spoke softly, trying to appear in the least threatening manner possible. “I wanted Eris to know if he was planning retaliation, so I’ve been reporting his movements.” The same mission he gave you to do on Tamlin.

“But… why? Why go through all of this for us?”

The shadowsinger shifted on his feet, swallowing thickly. “Because what I did… what I let happen… it was wrong. All of this was wrong, handled incredibly poorly on my family’s part. I know apologising will not mean anything, and it shouldn’t. I’ve done nothing to earn your trust, but I hope I can soon. I want to help you.” He glanced between you and Nesta. “Both of you.”

“You’re committing treason, Azriel.” Nesta said lowly. “Rhysand will kill you if he finds out.”

“He won’t find out unless I want him to.” Azriel said confidently. “And I can take care of myself.”

Eris piped up. “Azzy has been very useful to me. Rhysand thinks he’s spying on me, it’s quite ironic. We’re a fantastic pair if you ask me.”

The Illyrian rolled his eyes, but didn’t snap back like you had expected. Last you checked, the pair hated each other. Their allegiance was surprising, but opened up a whole other world of possibilities for getting into Night.

“I have something for you.” Azriel reached into his pocket, pulling out two neatly folded pieces of paper. “From your friends.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling Nesta do the same. You both missed Emerie and Gwyn terribly, and you found yourself plagued by guilt of leaving them behind. You grabbed one of the letters while Nesta grabbed the other, and began to read.

Nesta, (Y/N), Azriel told Gwyn and I everything. I am so sorry we couldn’t protect you, and it makes me sick to think about what Rhysand was doing to you, (Y/N). Things are going badly here – the training sessions have mostly been disbanded, Cassian is too unhinged right now to be around the priestesses. I think Rhysand is suspicious of us too, thinking we helped you somehow. I hope you’re both safe in Autumn with Eris. Azriel says we can hopefully visit soon, maybe we can move in with you guys haha. Thinking of you both, Emerie.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you looked over and saw Nesta’s doing the same. “Emerie said Cassian is….unhinged.” You said carefully, noting the female tense behind you. “What does that mean?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes shifted to Nesta. “There’s a lot on your plates right now, we don’t need to make it worse by discussing Cassian…”

“I would like to know.” Nesta said firmly, her voice monotone. You reached down and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.

Azriel took a breath before replying. “He’s angry. Murderous. He would never hurt the priestesses, but he’s surrounded by a cloud of rage that terrifies everyone around him. He’s picking fights in the war camps every day, beating asshole generals half to death to let off steam. None of us can get through to him, except Rhysand. I fear he will snap and fly to Autumn to try and take Nesta back, he’s convinced himself she’s being held here against her will.”

“He can’t do that.” You blurted out.

Eris scoffed. “He can try. My father would love that, actually. The brute would be breaking a ton of rules and would be forfeiting his life by doing so. We won’t let anything happen to you, Nesta.”

You went to speak, but Azriel quickly shushed you. The room went still as tendrils of shadows scurried back to the spymaster. “Someone’s coming.”

“Here?” You whispered, confused.

“Yes, it’s your fiancé.” Azriel hissed. “Nesta, Eris, come here.”

Without a word, your mate and the Autumn Prince scurried over to the spymaster. He held out his arms, and Eris snorted. “You want a hug right now, bat boy?”

“Shut up. My shadows can shield us. Quickly.” 

Eris rolled his eyes, but stepped into Azriel’s arm. Nesta did the same, eyes wide with panic. Shadows began to engulf them as they blended into the darkness. Within seconds, they had vanished entirely just as the doorknob began to turn.

The door swung open harshly, revealing a tall male who was unmistakably a Vanserra. He had a stocky build, a wide face with glowing amber eyes that were too close together for your liking. His red hair was short, slicked back in the exact same way Beron’s was. He wore elaborate armour that reeked with the faint stench of blood. Your blood chilled as he let out a sickly smile that reminded you of a demon. A golden tooth glinted in the candlelight, illuminating a white scar through his lip that spanned across the lower half of his face.

“Well, if it isn’t my lovely bride to be.” His voice was like a snake – smooth and charming, yet unmistakably dangerous.

“Malgorm.” You said evenly, standing up. You backed up, trying to put more space between you and the imposing male in front of you. That only egged him on more, as he took another large step towards you.

“The one and only.” He rubbed his hands together, sizing you up as if you were his next meal.

“What are you doing here?” You fought to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He shrugged. “I came to inspect my wife, of course. To see what I’m working with.”

Inspect. His choice of words chilled you. He truly saw you as an object, like you were a shiny new toy he was going to decide if he liked or not. There was a hunger in his eyes that scared you, one that looked like it was a bottomless pit, never satisfied. “I take it you’re a virgin?” He continued casually.

You lied. “Yes.”

Malgorm hummed in approval, walking around to your side of the bed. You stood your ground, despite every instinct telling you to run for the hills. When he reached you, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and pulled it towards him, eyes unabashedly going to your bare chest beneath. 

Disgusted, you slapped his hand away instinctively, not thinking of the consequences. Malgorm let out a low growl and grabbed you by the throat, slamming you into the wall. Your head screamed at the impact, but your throat was too restricted to let out a gasp. He was like a feral beast, breathing heavily in your face like a hound salivating before a piece of fresh meat. He leaned forward, dragging his crooked nose along your neck and inhaling deeply. You whimpered – not in arousal, but in fear. You wanted to kick, scream, anything, but you felt frozen.

And Malgorm knew it.

He chuckled, biting your ear hard enough to draw blood. You winced as the liquid trickled down your neck. “I’m going to have fun with you.” He purred in your bleeding ear before finally letting you go just as the edges of your vision went blurry.

You fell to the floor, gasping for air as he turned to walk away. Your entire body trembled, and you felt like you were going to be sick. 

“Until next time, my lovely.” Malgorm quipped before slamming the door behind him.

The second the male’s footsteps went out of earshot, the shadows in the corner quickly disappeared, Nesta and Eris shooting out from behind them like a rocket. Fury consumed Nesta’s features as she crouched down beside you and put a hand on your back. Her eyes glowed faintly as she spoke, and you noticed she was breathing heavily as if she had been struggling against something. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” She growled through her teeth.

Eris gently knelt on your other side and pulled a cloth from his pocket. He pressed it against your breathing ear while examining the forming bruises on your neck and the back of your head. It stung, but you barely felt it.

Azriel stepped forward, the disgust written clear as day on his face. “That’s who Beron is marrying you to?” He gaped, echoing your thoughts.

“Not if I can help it.” Nesta hissed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I don’t care what I have to do, I am not letting this marriage happen.”

“Neither am I,” Eris spoke cautiously, gently wiping the blood off your neck in soothing strokes. “But we have to be smart about this. We can’t just kill him randomly one afternoon, especially not before we deal with my father.”

You let out a sob, tears flowing down your cheeks. Nesta wiped them away with her sleeve, which only made you cry harder. Every time you thought you had escaped something bad, it only led to something worse. At this point, you were more scared of being held captive by Malgorm than Rhysand. At least you were pretty sure the High Lord of the Night Court wouldn’t rape you.

As Nesta comforted you and Eris tended to your wounds, you looked up at Azriel. You expected to see a look of disgust on his face at the sight of the three of you cuddled up together on the floor. Admittedly, you had no idea what to call whatever was going on between you all – you were mated to Nesta, who also had feelings for Eris, something you shared in common with her. Yet you felt no jealousy, no anger that your mate blushed whenever the male complimented her. You had assumed Azriel would find it strange, but there was no distaste on his features as he stared down at the three of you. There was something else behind his gaze, a mixture of regret, contentment, and something else you couldn’t place.

The shadowsinger’s deep voice filled the room, quieting your sobs. “I will help you get out of this marriage, (Y/N), if it’s the last thing I do. Whatever you need me to do, you only have to ask.”