#neris fluff

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.

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.”

NESTA POV 

Nesta gently stroked Athariel’s silver scales as the dragon snaked its head around her, vying for attention. The beast made a low cooing noise at her touch, and Nesta chuckled to herself. She remembered the mix of awe and fear she had felt upon seeing the dragons for the first time. Ancient and mythical beasts beyond her wildest imagination, in the flesh before her very eyes. And yet at this moment, Athariel was acting more like a puppy than a dragon.

“Some fearsome beast you are.” Nesta murmured as Athariel continued to purr lowly. She reached forward to scratch behind the dragon’s right horn, and Athariel responded by closing her eyes and pushing her head further into Nesta’s hand. “Spoiled creature.”

The sweet autumn breeze funnelled into the cave and stroked Nesta’s cheek. It was an unusually cold day. Even the thick wool layers did little to keep out the biting chill that seeped into Nesta’s bones. She shivered slightly, pressing closer to the dragon for warmth.

Eris had left about ten minutes ago to fetch something for today’s training session. As usual, he refused to elaborate, only giving Nesta a playful wink that he knew would send her blood steaming when she asked what he was going to fetch. Every few days, Eris dragged her to the dragon cave to train her magic. Even after her demonstration to Beron, Eris insisted they continue the practice. “Killing my father is going to take a lot more finesse than your display, my dear.” He had explained. “My father is not an idiot. He knows how to defend himself, you do not.”

As much as she hated admitting that she liked spending time with Eris, it pained Nesta to be away from you. Since the announcement of your engagement, you had been constantly pulled away by servants, planners, dress fitters, and courtiers in preparation. It broke her heart, seeing the life slowly drain out of your eyes with each passing day. She saw how you snuck desperate glances at her as you were shuffled off for wedding business, pleading for help through the bond. There was nothing that could compare to the pain of the helplessness she felt. Eris had sternly told her to keep it together, that she had a part to play and couldn’t interfere with your engagement yet. His father would be watching your every move, and if Nesta became too involved then everything would go to hell. 

The thought of the two upcoming weddings made Nesta’s stomach churn. While she definitely got the better of Beron’s sons, there were still so many things about Eris that she couldn’t figure out. The Prince always had an angle to play, never revealing his next move until he was certain things would work out in his favour. Nesta could understand why he was helping her. Objectively, their marriage was a strong match. She had been raised by her mother for this exact role – a doting wife who appeased the males of the court, but one with a viper’s tongue who was able to hold her own and get exactly what she wanted. Eris would benefit from it too, having a Cauldron-made female at his side whose powers dwarfed any of those in his court. 

But his angle with you was something Nesta couldn’t figure out. Helping you was a huge risk for him, one that placed both you and the Prince in danger. Throwing you out of the Autumn Court and delivering you back to Rhysand would have been the smart move for Eris, as it would have eased the tension between Autumn and Night after Nesta had slipped through Rhysand’s grasp. Helping you was a risk that Nesta couldn’t understand why Eris was so willing to take. She had tried probing him about it a few times, but he had always brushed her off.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Eris strode back into the cave, a bundle of sticks and wood in his arms. He dumped them on the floor, the clattering noise echoing throughout the dragon’s den. Morgoth’s massive dark head appeared from the shadows, emitting a low rumbling noise that shook Nesta’s bones as he sniffed his master. Eris chuckled, saying something to the dragon in a language Nesta did not understand as he stroked its nose.

She frowned at the pile of wood on the floor. “You went out to collect sticks?”

Eris smirked. “Brilliant observation, Nesta Archeron. You never cease to amaze me.”

She shot him a withering glare. “Prick. What do sticks have to do with training my magic?”

“Because it’s hard to train fire-related magic when you’re utterly terrified of fire itself.”

Nesta froze, panic rising in her chest. Athariel nudged her now-still hand, as if sensing her anxiety. But she kept a straight face and said evenly, “I do not know what you mean.”

Eris scoffed, bending down and arranging the sticks. “Oh, please. You flinch every time the hearth is lit. You look like you’ve seen a ghost whenever I use my magic around you. Deny it all you want, but I see right through you, my dear.”

She blanched at his words. His tone was not accusing nor angry, but casual and nonchalant. He wasn’t trying to put her down, but simply pointed out an observation. Nesta’s throat closed up as she realised just how much Eris truly picked up on. Not once did Cassian ever seem to notice how she flinched from every fire he lit, or how her room was always freezing and damp because she refused to use the fireplace. He had been too focused on fucking her to ever truly see through the front she put up.

“You do not have to tell me why,” Eris said, a bit softer this time. “But fear will distract you, and we cannot afford to have you distracted at this time. I will not force you to face this fear if you truly feel that you cannot, but I believe you are able to. You have already overcome so much, Archeron. Let this be just another obstacle.”

His gentle encouragement surprised Nesta, despite having experienced it before. She always found herself comparing his words to Cassian and the Inner Circle’s. The Inner Circle always gave her the illusion of a choice, two bad options with one worse than the other, forcing her to choose the lesser of two evils and end up going with what worked best for their agenda. There was no choice in training with Cassian, it was presented as something she simply had to do. 

Eris, on the other hand, always offered her a way out – another option even if it was one that made his life more difficult. He would explain the upsides and downsides to each path with logic, not manipulation. It was something Nesta grew to appreciate. He never backed her into a corner, or wanted her to submit.

She hated how the way she was treated in the Night Court followed her around like a ghost, haunting her every move. Guilt churned in her gut every time she instinctively snapped at Eris, anticipating that she would be forced into something. To his credit, he did not appear phased by her reactions and would wave off any apologies. It was something the Inner Circle had never understood about her. Nesta’s life had been taken out of her hands when she was snatched in the middle of the night and forced into the Cauldron. She did not choose to become fae, and now suddenly she had an immortal life ahead of her and no idea what to do with it. Yet her choices in the Night Court were never her own. Someone always decided what was best for her, rather than letting her figure out this transition at her own pace.

But Eris always gave her a choice. Nesta knew Eris wanted her to overcome her fear of fire for everyone’s sake, and she trusted him enough by now that she knew if she said no, he would drop the subject rather than push her buttons. So she took a breath, staring at the pile of sticks the Prince had assembled. “Ok,” She said. “I’ll do it.”

 *********************

Half an hour later, Nesta’s breath was slightly less shaky. Her back was pressed against Athariel’s silver neck, the heated scales of the dragon adding extra warmth against the damp autumn chill. A small orange fire blazed a few feet in front of her, that haunting snapping noise echoing throughout the cave. It took every ounce of self control Nesta had to not panic, taking deep breaths to try and push down the bile in her throat. 

Eris sat beside her, his arm ever so slightly grazing hers. He had spent the past thirty minutes monologuing about anything and everything, a welcome distraction to help Nesta focus on something else other than the crackling of the fire. He told all types of stories, ranging from tales of the ancient beings in Prythian to recounting the time Lucien accidentally killed Eris’s favourite fish by taking it out of the water to get fresh air. Nesta had not chimed in, but let out a snort at the latter story. She had seen Eris smile out of the corner of her eye. A true smile, not his usual arrogant smirk. It made her heart flutter, seeing the autumn Prince so relaxed. 

As time passed, the less Nesta flinched at the noises from the fire. Her body began to relax, and she saw less of her father’s face across her mind and began to appreciate the beauty of the orange flames. They still unsettled her and if she could smite them out this second she would. But she no longer felt the urge to crawl out of her own skin.

“... And I ate every last bit of that so-called ‘birthday cake’ Lucien made,” Eris rambled on, following another story about him and his youngest brother. “It was ghastly. Every bite made me want to hurl my guts up, but my brother looked so young and proud of his creation that I couldn’t hurt his feelings. Although he has always been a slippery little bastard, so part of me wondered if he was just playing innocent and deliberately made me a disgusting cake on purpose to see if I loved him enough to pretend it was good.”

Nesta laughed, truly laughed at that. She turned her head to meet Eris’s gaze. He made no jibing remark about how rare a laugh like that was for her, like Cassian would have done. He simply smiled, the orange light of the fire casting artful shadows across his pale skin.

“Eris,” Nesta began hesitantly, the noise of the fire fading into the background. “Can I ask you something?”

The heir shrugged. “I am an open book, Nesta Archeron. Ask away.”

She snorted. “Ok, well we both know that’s not true.”

“If you want to know my deepest darkest secrets, my dear, all you have to do is ask.” Eris purred. Nesta’s blood heated at his velvety voice, and she pushed herself to focus.

“What happened to Lucien?” She asked. “I was never told much about him, even by (Y/N). All I know is that he was in the Spring Court with Feyre when she was there, and he was in that room in Hybern with the Cauldron. And that he’s Elain’s mate and is now bouncing between the mortal lands and the Night Court.”

Eris sighed. “It’s complicated, Nesta.”

“I’m just trying to understand his role in all of this.”

“Including if he would be a good mate to your sister, am I correct?”

Nesta swallowed her sadness. She had tried not to think about Elain these past few weeks. The memory of finding out Elain had been the one to pack up what little belongings she had in her apartment stung like a fresh wound. “No,” She corrected Eris. “Because I appear to be the only one from the Night Court who likes to think of him as his own person, not just Elain’s mate. Who Elain chooses to be with is no longer my concern.”

Eris nodded. “Very well. Lucien is the youngest of my brothers, and my father was especially cruel to him. What I am about to tell you cannot leave this cave, understood?”

Nesta nodded, curious.

“Lucien is not my father’s son. My mother had an affair with Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court. I figured it out quickly, but my mother always denied it. My father had suspicions but no proof, so he took every opportunity he could to punish Lucien. He hated that Lucien never cared about his royal status, and that he frequently made friends with individuals that my father deemed unworthy – (Y/N) included. One day, he met a lesser faerie named Jesminda. When my father found out about it, he had two of my brothers hold Lucien back as he executed Jesminda right in front of him.”

Nesta chose her words carefully. “Were you… were you there?”

Eris looked at her sharply. “Yes, I was. But I refused my fathers request to kill Jesminda, so he did it himself. It is the only thing I have ever refused him, even to this day. And I paid the price for it.”

“What did he do to you?”

“That matters not. Once I was released from the dungeons, my spies informed me that my father was planning on killing Lucien. I knew my brother was smart and would flee to the Spring Court, so I alerted Tamlin to the situation. Tamlin found Lucien at the border and killed two of my three brothers that had been sent after him to slaughter Lucien on our father’s orders.”

Nesta picked at a thread on her sleeve and asked dryly, “Let me guess, Malgorm was the one who escaped Tamlin’s claws?”

Eris snorted humourlessly. “Yes. Somehow, Malgorm always finds a way to escape death. It’s incredibly annoying.”

“Does Lucien know what you did for him?”

“No. He does not. And it does not matter if he did know, it would not change his hatred for me.”

A sadness overtook Eris’s eyes that pained Nesta. With a sick feeling in her gut, she knew looking at Eris was like looking in a mirror. Two eldest children with a cruel parent, twisted and moulded into their parent’s perfect creation. Nesta knew that Feyre would always see her as their mother’s favourite, but never knew just how much Nesta suffered underneath her. How Nesta would plead to the universe every night that their mother would turn her attention elsewhere because neglect was better than cruelty to her. Feyre did not know that her grandmother had beaten her, or that her mother had pulled Nesta’s hair until she cried and deprived her of meals to keep her thin. Nesta had never told her, not only for fear of showing weakness, but because she knew that Feyre had been so neglected she wouldn’t truly be able to understand that their mother’s attention was not something to be desired.

And Eris was the same. All the tales Nesta had heard of him portrayed the male as a worse version of Beron, a perfect eldest son and soldier for the High Lord to wield like a sword. But he had done so much to protect his younger brother, and just like Nesta, had never told him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully understand it. They were both disliked by their youngest sibling for being their parent’s prized pupils, oblivious to the whole story. Even though Eris had not answered her question, Nesta knew that what Beron had put him through was a thousand times worse than anything her mother had done. Deep down, she knew that Eris was just as broken as she was. Their main difference was Eris had centuries of practice in masking it, whereas Nesta did not.

“You’re not a bad male, Eris.” Nesta said softly, her gaze lost in the warm amber of his eyes.

“You hardly know me.” His voice was bitter, the aloof arrogant mask he wore threatening to slide up and hide the vulnerability Nesta had seen in his face moments ago. “I’ve done horrible things in the name of my father, Nesta. Things that would make you run back to the Night Court if you knew.”

“I don’t judge people for what they had to do to survive.” Nesta insisted, her voice even. “You may have your own secret agenda, Eris, but you’ve treated me better than most people have in a long, long time. Do not think I don’t appreciate that.”

Eris laughed, and the haunted look was shoved from his face. “My dear, how you have been treated is appalling, even to me. Let’s not have that be the standard, I beg you.”

“How do you know I didn’t deserve it?” Nesta said before she could stop herself. It simply slipped out, the guilt that had been shoved down her throat by the Inner Circle ever since she became fae entrapping her words once again. It was an exhausting uphill battle. Every day, she told herself that she was right to flee the Night Court, to try and make a life for herself outside Velaris. But every day those seeds of doubt wriggled their way into her thoughts, trapping her inside a web of self hatred that she had fought so hard to get out of.

“Seriously?” Eris said incredulously, eyebrows raised. He shifted so he was facing Nesta, and he took her still trembling hands in his own. “Tell me, what criminal, abhorrent offence have you committed to warrant being treated like shit and locked up?”

Nesta’s throat was dry. “I didn’t try and help my family like Feyre did when we were in poverty.”

Eris shook his head. “You are the eldest daughter, not the parent. It was not your responsibility to provide for your family.”

“I was mean to Feyre on several occasions.”

“You’re sisters, that’s supposed to happen. You should hear the vicious things my brothers and I say to each other.”

“I spent a ton of Rhys’s money on alcohol, drinking myself stupid every night.”

“Please, that male has more money than anyone I know, my dear. I assure you his bank account was not dented in the slightest.”

“I slept my way through the city after the war.”

“Everyone in that little Inner Circle has fucked more fae than anyone I know. Your number is nothing compared to theirs.” Eris said calmly. “All I’m hearing is that a newly turned fae female was traumatised after being dragged into a brutal war she did not ask for, and found unhealthy yet very normal ways of coping. So tell me again, what actual horrid thing have you done to deserve any of this?”

Tears filled Nesta’s eyes as she listed her sins, the crackling of the fire fading into the background. She knew Eris was right, his logical mind soothing her anxious one. Talking about it with Eris was different than talking about it with you. You had been just as angry as Nesta had, forced into the same situation as her and kept in the House of Wind against your will, the Inner Circle using the fact that they had saved both your lives as leverage to make you do what they wanted. You were someone who Nesta could rant to about it and get angry, letting that hatred she felt out to someone who knew exactly what she meant. But Eris was different. He rationalised her thoughts, providing a different kind of reassurance. 

She couldn’t stop the tears that fell down her cheeks. Nesta bit her wobbling lip, trying to keep more from spilling out. Eris released one of her hands, bringing it up to her face and gently brushing the tears away. “They’ve done a number on you, haven’t they?” He murmured softly, cupping her cheek.  “What are you thinking right now, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta inhaled deeply, pressing her face slightly harder into Eris’s warm hand. The smell of smoke and forest engulfing her senses. “That I am scared,” She admitted. “For so many reasons. I am scared that Cassian will find me and steal me back to Velaris. That everything we’ve done has all been for nothing. I’m scared that your father will find us out somehow and kill us all. I’m scared for (Y/N) and her engagement to your awful brother. And I hate myself, Eris. I hate myself for who I’ve become not just because I am now fae, but because the person I was before the Cauldron would not have given in and trained with Cassian. I… I am afraid that with this new immortality ahead of me I will not recognize the girl I used to be, and not in a good way. I hate that I have let the words of people who barely know me cut this deeply, and I am ashamed of it.”

Eris continued to use his thumb to brush away the fresh tears on her cheeks. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “You have had a difficult hand dealt to you, Nesta.” Eris said softly. “And they should have known better. Do not be ashamed. For anything. Just know you have (Y/N), just as you have me. We will not let the Night Court take you, I swear on my mother’s life. Your mate cares for you, and I… I care for you, too.”

Nesta opened her mouth to respond, but a strange sensation in her chest stopped her. It suddenly felt like she was falling through space, the stars overhead spinning around her as she plummeted towards a strange light. She gasped, and felt Eris tense up as well. In her mind, she saw her silver flames dancing towards orange ones. They intertwined, braiding together and forming a magical rope-like appearance. Nesta reached down in her mind, her heartbeat racing as she grabbed a hold of it. She peered down to where the flames had extended to, seeing a flaming silhouette on the other end, her silver flames surrounding it affectionately. 

And so she reached forward, extending a mental hand into that flaming silhouette.

And Eris gasped. 

Nesta’s eyes shot open, and she lurched back from the Autumn Prince’s touch. Eris’s face was ghostly pale, and he was panting as if he had just fought off a hundred soldiers at once. Athariel hissed behind her, not happy to be awoken by the sudden movement. Her mouth was dry. She had felt this feeling before, but with you. That flaming rope she had followed felt the same as the pull of the tattoo on her sternum.

The mating bond.

The flaming silhouette at the other end of the magical rope was Eris Vanserra. Nesta’s mind reeled, her body threatening to combust with the feeling inside her chest. She could only stare at the male before her in shock.

Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours. Your words rang in Nesta’s head like a bell, making her feel dizzy. No, she thought. This isn’t possible. You were her mate, how could this happen? There was still that strange feeling in her chest from Cassian, which confused her even more. The feeling of one mating bond within her was overwhelming enough, but two? Nesta didn’t know if she could survive it.

“Eris…” His voice was like a prayer on her lips, sounding completely different than the previous hundred times she had said it. It was like a song, carrying over to the shaken autumn prince and snapping him out of his trance.

“Nesta.” Her blood sang at the sound of her name, silver flames sparking from her fingertips in response. 

“Like calls to like…” She muttered, recalling Eris’s repetition of the phrase. And then it dawned on her. Eris had consistently told her that like calls to like, and she had thought he was talking about their similarities in magic.

Fury rose within her, drowning out everything else. “Did you know?” She hissed at Eris.

The male’s eyes were wide, and he stuttered. “I–”

“Did you fucking know?” Nesta growled. “Is this the only reason you agreed to help us? So you could use the bond to trap me. Is that what you wanted? To keep me prisoner here, just like your father did to your mother?”

Eris blanched, flinching like he had been struck. Nesta felt it, the blow of her words, as if she had been punched in the chest. “I swear, I did not know.” Eris pleaded. “Nesta, please, you have to trust me. I had no idea about this.”

Nesta rose to her feet, her entire body shaking. She climbed onto Athariel’s back, nudging the dragon forward with her heels. Athariel grumbled, but got to her feet and began to crawl out of the cave. Her hands shook as she held onto the dragon’s horns. She stared down at Eris, who appeared paralyzed in shock as he looked up at her. Nesta’s voice was cold as ice as she said, “I don’t believe you.”

And as Athariel spread her wings and took to the sky, Nesta had not noticed the fire had gone out completely.

The stench of blood and shredded flesh was choking your senses, clogging your throat like the thickest oil. Everything was happening in slow motion through the stained glass as Hybern’s soldiers retreated, crowing their victory as if it took a great deal of skill to slaughter a defenceless village. Their cries were muffled, as if you were underwater. Every limb ached, too stiff and heavy to move even an inch. No amount of effort could get you to lift your head up.

You were going to die here. That much you had accepted.

What would be the point in living anyway? With your entire village dead, you closed your eyes, waiting for the embrace of death to whisk you away. Each breath was like shredding a knife through your chest, what was taking so long? Everyone else was gone, yet you were cursed with the ability to still draw breath.

A strange, white flicker drew your eyelids open. Everything was blurry, but even in your dazed state you could tell that something was happening. Groaning, you stretched out your fingers. If you had a voice, you knew you’d be screaming at the pain from such a simple movement. As your palm outstretched, something warm and gentle closed around it, as if the sweet spring breeze itself had formed a hand of its own to clasp yours. The touch was gentle, reassuring even. It flooded you with a sense of calm. Was this what death was like?

The white flickering from the bodies in the village erupted in a shower of starlight and sunshine, glowing tendrils rising from the mangled fae in your line of vision. They descended upon you like smoke, and the warm touch around your hand squeezed once before agony overtook your body.

You didn’t know if you were screaming or not. Your throat burned as if a dagger had slashed it open. Your abdomen ached, as if it was being hacked apart by a longsword. It felt like Hybern’s soldiers had descended upon you with their weapons, striking and cutting a thousand times. You heard nothing but the ringing in your ears as your body shook with spasms.

Please just let me die faster, You pleaded to the Mother. I can’t take this. Just end it already.

Even throughout the unbearable pain that wracked your body, you could still feel the warm sensation like someone was squeezing your palm. You wondered if it was your mother, preparing to guide you into whatever afterlife lay ahead. But the pain didn’t stop, didn’t end. It just kept going for what felt like eons. And then, like a weighted blanket was being laid over you, it stopped.

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

“Wake up.”

You opened your eyes and groaned, Rhysand’s voice making your already pounding head worse. You had endured hours of hearing it scraping against your mental shields, pressing to try and find a way in. You had felt his anger, his frustration and disbelief at not being able to get through. Every ounce of his hatred had been flung at you like a thousand arrows, making you see right through the High Lord.

You felt his self righteousness, his true feelings about how he didn’t give a shit about anything but his precious circle. Even them, he looked down upon – including his own mate and High Lady. As Rhysand flung his thoughts at you, you read them like paper on parchment. He may love Feyre and his family, but at the end of the day he needed control. And there you were, a stain on his image, a brick out of place at the foundation of his empire, threatening to bring the whole thing down.

Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, feared you.

He was afraid of your influence, how openly rebelling on him and calling out his lies might spread ideas to others. Especially with Nesta, Cauldron-made, on your side. The thought of Rhys being afraid of you would have made you laugh, if you weren’t tied up in a cell for days on end. You weren’t even sure how you were still alive

You never figured out what happened that day your village was attacked, after the slaughter ceased and you were left alone. Every time you closed your eyes, that glowing light from the bodies around you haunted your dreams. You weren’t sure if it was even real, if any of it actually happened or if your mind had made it up. But you had felt different since that day in a way that couldn’t be explained. It was as if something coursed through your bones, waiting to answer a call.

You were changed that day, and for months you had chalked it up to your state of mind being altered by something so traumatic. But you had been in this cell without food for longer than your body, even as a faerie, should have been able to survive. Something that clearly also perplexed your captor as he stared at you.

“I don’t understand you, (Y/N).” Rhysand said with lethal calm. “Nothing about you makes sense. You happen to survive a slaughter at the hands of Hybern, you infiltrate my court and make a magical bond with Nesta Archeron that nobody has ever seen before, and you somehow resist my magic. I want to know how you’re able to do that.”

You spat up the blood that had been pooling in your mouth. “Go fuck yourself. Prick.”

The High Lord chuckled, but continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “And to top it off, you’ve been scheming with Eris Vanserra this whole time. Plotting to overthrow me, perhaps? To rip my court out from under me like Feyre did to your beloved Tamlin? If it is revenge you are after, I suggest you rethink your plan.”

You said nothing. It would be pointless to argue with him. Anything you say would be twisted and used against you, so you held your tongue.

“It matters not,” Rhys continued, pacing back and forth with his hands in his pockets. “Because you failed in whatever it is you wanted to accomplish. You are here, locked in this dungeon where nobody can find you. And whether I grant you a merciful death or not depends on you answering this one simple question.”

Rhys stopped pacing, and leaned towards you. His face was inches away from yours, violet eyes boring into you like lasers. You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. “What spell did you use to cast the bond? Gwyn’s story only tells us so much, if any of it is even related to this, but I know there’s more to it”

You huffed, cracked lips stinging with the effort of speaking. “You seemed to have a list of other questions, what happened to those?”

“Oh, I have other ways of finding out the answers to almost everything else. But with Nesta Archeron tucked away somewhere in Autumn, you are the only other person who can speak to the magic of the spell.” Rhys’ slender finger caressed your cheek, making you squirm with discomfort. “And if you cooperate like a good girl, how about I make you a deal? I will let Nesta live out whatever shit life she wants in Autumn in peace, provided you give me what I need.”

Your breath lurched, the horror of his insinuation dawning on you. Rhys never intended to let Nesta live peacefully in Autumn, not because he cared for her safety in the clutches of Beron, but because losing her made him look weak. Even if Nesta was married to Eris and protected by the whole of Autumn, Rhysand would take every opportunity he could to hunt her like a dog and bring her back.

No doubt he’d paint himself as the hero of the situation. Poor Nesta Archeron, stolen away by the evil Autumn prince and made a bride against her will. Rhysand would save her from her terrible fate, dragging her back to the Night Court to be hailed a saviour. And that would be the last time Nesta ever stepped out of Night, he would make sure of it. Under the illusion of caring for his beloved sister in law, of course.

You glared at him, but he only chuckled again. Rhys leaned away from you and stood back upright, picking at the sleeve of his shirt casually. “It matters not,” He said. “Azriel is on his way right now. He’ll tell me what he’s discovered, and when the sun rises over the mountains, he will kill you.”

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped on your body as you remembered the fading voices of Rhys’ command to his spymaster before you had passed out. You didn’t know what Azriel would do. On the one hand, he had stood up for you in a way that Rhys clearly hadn’t expected. But on the other, he has been loyal to the prick for five centuries – holding out hope that would change now was foolish. All you could truly hope for was that he granted you a quick death.

“What if he didn’t find anything?” You croaked. “Still gonna kill me then? I thought you were desperate to find answers.”

“If Azriel cannot find them, then there is nobody that can,” The High Lord countered simply, as if he were making idle chit chat. “And then whatever secrets you’re so determined to keep die with you, the magic along with it. That’s something I can live with if not knowing at the end of the day means protecting my court.”

You laughed bitterly. “As if you care about that?”

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, his body stilling like a predator frozen before the kill. “Excuse me?”

“You sure don’t give a shit about most of it.” You challenged brazenly. “The women in Illyria who still get their wings clipped, anyone who has the misfortune of living outside Velaris, you don’t care about anyone but yourself and your little family. You rule because you like the power, not because you care about the people your power is supposed to protect.”

“I have outlawed wing clipping in Illyria–” Rhys growled, but you interrupted him.

“And without enforcing it harshly you have only ensured that the practice of wing clipping becomes more underground, leaving females to die from mangled procedures.”

If looks could kill, Rhysand’s would have obliterated you. But you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself at the anger you elicited from the High Lord. Judging by his reaction you knew that he knew you were right. He just hated hearing it.

“I see Azriel taught you too much.” Rhys hissed.

“What did I teach her too much of?”

You flinched as Azriel’s voice echoed in the chamber. Out of the shadows he appeared, melting into the space of the dark cell like wax. His expression was unreadable, and he did not look at you. He faced his brother, not sparing you a single glance.

“Azriel, I am very glad you’re here.” Rhys’ voice singsonged, an obnoxiously chipper tone to it. The smug look on his face made you tense up preparing for the worst.

Gwyn was the only other person who knew about what magic was used to cast the bond between you and Nesta. Your gut twisted at the thought of Azriel going to her for answers. The priestess had sworn she would never breathe a word, but in more ways than one Azriel could be… persuasive. Rhys had already figured out the story the spell was based on by going into her mind, if he knew what else she had found….

You were certain of one thing though: if Azriel had harmed Gwyn in any way, you’d tear him limb from limb.

“I assume you’re going to be more helpful than this one here regarding information on the bond?” Rhys continued, crossing his arms proudly.

Silence that was almost too loud took over the cell for a few moments, until Azriel uttered one word from his lips. “No.”

Rhys blinked in surprise. “No?” He said. “You mean you honestly found nothing?”

A tentative flicker of hope ignited in your chest. Azriel was stone faced as he answered to his High Lord. “Correct. The library was of no use, even the restricted section. I found nothing resembling the bond (Y/N) and Nesta used.”

The High Lord’s eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head. “Interesting. You are usually more useful than this, Az.”

“I explored all of my available resources and found nothing.” Azriel’s voice was monotone, no emotion or life to it. It was the voice of a spy, unreadable and impossible to decipher. It made you nervous, unsure of what angle he was playing at. Azriel was not stupid, he had to know Gwyn would have been the one to give you and Nesta access to the information.

Which means whatever his reasoning was, he chose to keep Rhysand in the dark.

“Pity.” Rhys clucked his tongue in disappointment. “I know dear Amren was dying to find out what spell it was. But it doesn't matter anymore. I guess we’ll all have to live with the disappointment, won’t we?”

Azriel remained motionless as he spoke. “I am sorry I failed you.”

Another minute of silence overcame the cell. You barely even breathed, heart racing with every passing second. Until Rhys spoke the words you had been anticipating for days. “Kill her.”

The shadowsinger shifted, standing more upright. As your heart dropped into your stomach, you anticipated him reaching for truth-teller. If he had kept the information about the spell out of Rhysand’s hands, you took it as a sign he would make your death quick and clean at least. And so you closed your eyes, finding yourself for the second time in one year waiting for death to come and claim you.

“No.”

Azriel’s firm words made your eyes snap open in confusion. Rhysand was taking a deep breath, as if trying to keep himself calm and collected before he spoke. “And why not?” The High Lord said icily.

“Because this is wrong.” Azriel said, shifting his weight as if the mere act of disobeying his High Lord caused him discomfort. He glanced at you, eyes softening for a second as he spoke. “And she is my friend.”

“Please,” Rhys scoffed angrily. “No she is not. She was manipulating you, you fool. Maybe her pretty face kept your shadows distracted enough from figuring that out, but she is not your friend. She is your prisoner, whom your High Lord is ordering you to kill.”

“I said no.”

You glanced uneasily between them, not expecting Azriel to openly defend you like this. Rhys, apparently, felt the same thing. His breath was uneven, and his voice laced with rage as he spoke. “What has gotten into you, Azriel? Are you really going to disobey me like this?”

Azriel argued back, trying to reason with his brother. “Rhys, what we are doing to this female is wrong. All signs point to her wanting just to be free, not to bring harm to your court. She has no desire to overthrow you, or whatever bizarre shit your brain has come up with. Killing her would be wrong.”

“SHE IS A FUCKING THREAT TO MY COURT!” Rhys suddenly bellowed, his loud yell hurting your ears as it echoed throughout the chamber. Without warning, Rhysand shoved Azriel against the wall, a loud crack sounding as the spymaster’s wings collided with solid rock. He groaned in pain, but did not fight back.

. “And I am ORDERING you to do your job and eliminate her.” Rhys growled at him, pressing his neck into the wall. “If you do not, then I–”

“Do it yourself, coward.” You spat with as much defiance as you could. You hated seeing Azriel let his brother overpower him, watching him give up because he thought he deserved punishment for disobedience. You did not necessarily see eye to eye with the shadowsinger on everything – hell, there were times where his bystanderism made him just as bad as the rest of his circle.

But you could not let this happen to you, because it was all your fault. It was because of you he was in this position – his job, his family, his life on the line because he was trying to help you.

Rhys froze, pausing whatever blow he was about to land on his spymaster before he slowly turned to gaze at you. “What did you just say?”

“I said…” Every word was an effort, but a surge of determination flooded through you. “Kill me yourself, you fucking coward. Do your own dirty work for once.”

Rhysand snarled, letting go of Azriel with a shove. He stormed over towards you and grabbed your throat, hand gripping it like talons. His face was pure rage, the ugly face behind the charming mask, the illusion finally shattered. “I’m going to enjoy this,” He spat in your face. “And when I’m done, I’m going to drag Nesta back here kicking and screaming if I have to. And she will meet this very same fate once I make her scream.”

Something deep inside of you snapped. A strange sensation coursed through your bones, filling your broken body with life once again. Your wrists no longer ached, your back was no longer stiff. You could barely hear over the roaring in your head as you pictured Nesta’s beautiful face in your mind. The ringing in your ears became so loud, and before the High Lord of the Night Court unleashed his dark mist upon you, the world went white.

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

Wake up.

It was not the snarling, arrogant voice of Rhysand that greeted you, but a soft female one. It was familiar yet foreign all at once, the sound of both one voice and a thousand altogether, blended like a strange melody. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with a familiar scene.

Your village.

The bodies had gone, only ash and dirt remaining where they once were. The buildings remained in ruins, like the memorial of an ancient city. Vines had begun to curl over the rooftops, circling down the sides of what remained of the houses that Hybern did not burn down. Flowers had blossomed across the earth, a stark contrast to the death and destruction that had occurred on the very same soil all those months ago. You glanced at your arms, which were free from the cuts and bruises inflicted upon you in the dungeon. You felt no pain.

“Do you remember what happened that day?”

You jumped as the female voice sounded behind you. Whirling around, you were met with a tall female. She had olive skin and warm brown eyes, with long brown hair that shone like the rays of the sun itself. Her face was kind but strong, and she wore sparling robes that almost blended in with her skin. She emitted an otherworldly glow, a kind of radiance that shook you to your very core.

“Who… who are you?” You stuttered.

The female smiled softly, her elegant hands clasped together. “I am Estelle.”

Your mind raced, putting together the pieces from Gwyn’s information. “Like… the mother goddess from the story? Jayana’s lover?”

She nodded. “A millenia later, and I find myself missing her every day. Much like you miss your Nesta.”  

You took a steady breath, shaking your head. “Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?”

The goddess chuckled softly. “No, my child, you are not dead. You are here for a reason, one which requires an answer to my question. Do you remember this day?”

You paused, taking a few steps back and scanning the clearing. Your heart ached at the sight of it so empty, so quiet and lifeless. It held so many good memories, ones that were now tainted with bloodshed and violence. “Not all of it…”

“Do you ever have dreams, my child? Dreams where you’re back in this clearing, body seized with pain so violent it felt like you were dying a thousand times?”

You felt her presence follow you as you wandered aimlessly. “Yes…” You muttered. “Are you going to tell me that really happened?”

“Is that what you want me to tell you?”

You whirled around, facing the female once again. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is happening right now. Or at all, frankly. I’ve had enough riddles, can you please just tell me why I’m here?”

Despite your anger, Estelle showed no sign of hurt at your sharp words. There was sorrow behind her eyes, an understanding, one that you felt could see into every inch of your soul.

“You know my story, correct?” She said softly. You nodded.

“Good,” She continued. “When I absorbed the life forces of my fallen comrades, I felt each and every one of their deaths. It tore through my body like a riptide, and I was sure it was going to break me.  I felt their rage, their fear, their anguish as they were slaughtered much like your village was. And after that day, I held a new power, one that allowed me to escape Hel and break the realms of the world apart.”

Your throat was dry, a dizziness overcoming you as the weight of her words dawned on you. Every dream you had about that day, every nightmare that ended in blinding light and pain was the exact experience that the goddess in the story had felt. “What are you saying?” Your voice was quiet as you asked a question you were pretty sure you knew the answer to.

“My child,” Estelle said. “The same thing happened to you. What you felt that day was the life force of everyone in your village flooding into your body. You felt each and every one of their deaths, and I am sorry you had to experience that. But it happened for a reason.” You weren’t sure you were breathing at this point. You rested your hands on your knees, trying to stabilise yourself. “Do you mean….” Your voice stuttered as you spoke. “Do you mean that… what I felt that day… what I felt afterwards…”

Your voice trailed off, but a warm hand on your shoulder reassured you.

“Yes. Your body now possesses the life force of hundreds of deaths, a power you can shape and wield however you choose.”

The feeling of the goddess’s hand on your shoulder struck something in you. All those times you felt that invisible touch, that reassuring presence that you thought you had imagined… You had thought it was maybe the Mother, but it dawned over you that it had been Estelle this whole time. Hers was the hand that held yours as you felt the deaths of your friends and family rip through you. Hers was the voice that helped you stay strong as Rhysand tortured you.

“This whole time…” You said breathlessly, her presence behind you like a warm light on your back. “I thought it was the Mother guiding me. But it was you.”

“My dear, we are one and the same.”

You whipped around to face the goddess. “You’re the Mother?”

Estelle simply smiled. “The war that took Jayana from me was centuries before Prythian was formed. After I escaped Hel, I wandered about the universe, utterly lost. Until I found this untamed world, unguided by any spirit. I did not ask to be named the Mother, but my true name had been lost in my years alone. So I became her, but I never forgot who I was. And I never will.”

You ran a hand through your hair, mind spinning with the overload of information. The story of Jayana and Estelle was not only true, but Estelle was the Mother herself, the being that watched over Prythian and was worshipped all over the land. Not only that, but you were living what Estelle had experienced hundreds and thousands of years ago.

“Why?” Was all you could ask, not knowing what to say.

“Not everything has to have an answer,” Estelle said, taking your hand in her own. “And I urge you not to expect to know the explanation for everything after this. But as for why you are here, I needed you to know the truth. You refused to believe your dreams, and chose to try and forget about them instead of asking yourself if they were really just imaginary. You possess the power of life now, just as I do. And you are in a terrible situation, my child. I ask that you recall my story, and use this power to find your way back to your mate.”

Even in this strange dreamy reality, time seemed to stop. Mate. The world itself seemed to spiral down upon you as the word replayed in your head over and over again.

Nesta was your mate.

“But… but Cassian is Nesta’s mate.” Was all you could sputter out. Something stirred in you, as if awoken by the realisation. It was like the bond, but stronger. Its presence in your chest was undeniable, reaching out as if it were searching for its other half.  

“Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.”

“How–”

Estelle cut you off, more urgency in her voice than before. “I have already told you not to expect the answers to every question you have just yet. All will reveal itself in time. But Jayana and I were mates before I created the spell that allowed us to communicate. Therefore, in order for the magic to work, the spell had to be done between two mates. The daemati-like powers is the only thing that spell gives. Everything else you feel? That deeper connection to Nesta? It was already there in the mating bond. The spell had nothing to do with it.”

“Holy shit.” You gasped, blood racing. “So you’re saying… Nesta and I are mates, and that’s why the spell worked?”

She nodded. “And why Rhysand was not able to activate it. It can only be done so between two mates, no matter how powerful an outsider’s magic is. And your magic is also the reason he cannot get into your head. You are protected from all other daemati magic.”

“I’m going to pass out…” You muttered, taking a seat on the log a few feet away. Within seconds, Estelle’s, or the Mother’s, appeared beside you.

“Everything happens for a reason, my child. You received those powers for a reason. You came across my story for a reason. I didn’t have a chance to use the spell to find my way back to my mate, but you do. Seize it.”

That strange presence in your bones you had felt after you woke up from the massacre, it wasn’t imagined after all. Deep down, you had always known something otherworldly happened. But you had spent months pushing it aside, trying to ignore it out of fear of what it was. “This is all just happening inside my head, isn’t it?”

Estelle’s long robes rustled in the breeze. “Of course it is,” She said. “But that does not mean it’s not real. Across the universe, there are multiple realities. Multiple versions of oneself that may seem like different people, but are all variants of one another. With beings like me, that does not happen unless we make it so. You, (Y/N), are an incarnate version of me. It’s why this is happening in your head. I am not some external being that is inside your mind right now. I am you, and you are me.”

You were the Mother incarnate. Holy shit. It felt like a dream, but the presence beside you was too strong to be anything but real. “If people have variants of each other,” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “Does that mean….Nesta is Jayana?”

“In a sense,” Estelle responded. “The connection is not direct like with you and I. I saw your situation when Hybern attacked your village, and I kept you alive by having your body absorb the life force of the dead just like I had. And thus, you became a version of me. Nesta Archeron is her own person, but fate seems to like its parallels. I see much of Jayana in her. They both have the same temper, both represent a death goddess feared across all the lands.”

You frowned. “You mean you aren’t the decider of fate? I thought everything that happened was with your guidance?”

She laughed melodically, the sound like the song of birds on a spring morning. “No, my child. I decide many things, yes. But not all. None of us do, and we do not know what does.”

Estelle’s words echoed in your mind like a hurricane, threatening to overwhelm you. But it didn’t, because in a way, everything made sense. She had no reason to lie, even if this was just some bizarre dream or afterlife sentence. The way you felt that connection to Nesta, that force in your body that threatened to explode when you were angry, it all aligned with what the goddess beside you was saying.

“I cannot linger any longer,” Estelle murmured, covering your shaking hands with her own. “But remember how I got out of Hel. Find that power buried within you and rattle the stars with it. I will always be there alongside you, my child. You are never alone.”

You turned to say something, another hundred questions racing through your mind, but the world around you glowed as the Mother faded into the light. Within a few seconds, she had gone.

Once again, you looked at the clearing around you. The marks on the earth where the bodies had lain seemed to glow, calling out to you. A force deep within you sung in response, begging you to release it. As you poured over Estelle’s words, you recalled how the magic she absorbed allowed her to burst out of Hel and free herself.

Rattle the stars.

Her wording was deliberate. The Night Court was represented by the stars. You knew not the extent of your powers, but if your theory was right, you could make the entire Night Court feel your fury.

And so you closed your eyes, and let the clearing slip away as you let that power you’d been pushing down surge through you. It felt like you were falling, the clearing swallowing up as you descended into a void of light.

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

It could have been a millenia you were falling, or perhaps a second. As you let yourself go down into the base of whatever power lay within you, you felt memories crash into you all at once. Your mother’s smile as she presented you with her freshly baked scones. The feeling of Nesta’s lips as she kissed you for the first time. Lucien pressing a cold cloth to your head when you were sick. Eris holding you as you danced in the Hewn City. Rhysand’s smirk as he carved into you like a piece of meat.

The rage that boiled up as Rhysand’s face flashed through your mind quickened your plummet, your power bubbling up and ready to overflow. And so you opened your eyes.

A look of horror crossed Rhysand’s features as your eyes glowed with a bright white half a second before his magic went to strike you down. Dark mist collided with pure light as you exploded with a war cry of ancient times.

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

White hot rage was all you could feel as you unleashed yourself. Rage of the Spring Court souls whose life forces you had absorbed crying out with you for vengeance against the Night Court. Rhysand was thrown back, Azriel too as your light exploded. The walls around you crumbled, your chains shattering as everything around you came crashing down. The earth beneath your feet shook, the rock from the prison walls flying a hundred feet out to either side.

Wind ripped against your face as the mountain your cell had been inside crumbled away before you, creating avalanches of stone whose impact upon the ground sounded like thunder. Your blood sang, as if the life force within you was happy to be used. Surprisingly, Velaris was visible in the distance – you had thought your prison would be some remote mountain in Illyria. But perhaps Rhys knew that’s what everyone would assume, and keeping you closer to his home would keep you from being discovered.

Out of the shadows, Rhysand and Azriel appeared from the smoke, coughing violently. As they finally opened their eyes to look at you, pure wonder crossed their faces. You didn’t have to look down at yourself to know you were glowing with that same light Estelle had. Your gaze landed upon Azriel, who froze like a statue as it landed on him.

He didn’t cower, or scurry away. He simply gazed at you in awe for a few more moments before dipping his head, bowing before your presence. Rhys, on the other hand, got to his feet and snarled.

“What are you?” The High Lord hissed, gathering dark mist between his fingertips.

“I am Life,” The voice you responded with was not entirely your own – it was ancient and prophetic, with the authority of a god. “And your court has taken everything from me. You will pay for your crimes, High Lord Rhysand.”

Rhys made a vicious noise, talons of mist forming at his fingertips. You quickly realised that despite what you had just done, you had no clue how to defend yourself with your power. But before he could make the first blow, a ring of silver fire burst through the air and surrounded him, accompanied by a fierce roar from the sky. As you looked up, letting your eyes adjust to the bright daylight, you gasped at the sight before you.

Three dragons were flying towards the ruined mountain. One black, one silver, and one gold. The golden one was without a rider, circling the ruins around you and crying out. A familiar redhead was perched atop the black one, golden armour shining in the midday sun.

Eris, a golden flame atop a black fire breathing mount, had come to your rescue. But it was the silver dragon your eyes were drawn to, and that piece in your chest that had spent the last few weeks reaching out to Nesta crackled with excitement as you gazed upon the silver dragon’s mount.

Dressed in red, scaling armour was Nesta. Even from the ground, you could see her silver eyes glow in the same shade as the flames surrounding Rhysand. She had the wrathful look of a death goddess as she descended with her dragon, its silver wings creating hurricane like gusts of wind as it hovered before you and Rhys.

Nesta and Eris had come to save you.

You couldn’t help but glance at Azriel, who seemed sagged with relief. Your throat closed up with emotion – the spymaster knew Eris and Nesta would show up, and likely told them exactly where.

“Nesta.” Rhys growled, staring up at his sister-in-law with anger. “Leave.”

“Not without (Y/N).” Nesta’s voice was clear and strong, commanding Rhys like a queen commanding her subjects. Her dragon roared furiously at Rhysand, causing the High Lord to flinch.

“Dragons?” He sputtered, coughing as the smoke from the silver flames blew in his face. “What… how?”

“You have your surprises, Rhysand, and I have mine.” Eris piped up, landing his black dragon on the ground. The earth shook with its impact, sending more rocks crashing down the remains of the mountain.

Weariness took over your body, and you felt the light begin to fade as your magic retreated.

No no no, You cursed to yourself, trying to summon it again. But every muscle in your body ached from the sudden surge, unable to bear any more magic. You felt helpless again, trapped. Rhysand tried to take a step towards you, but scurried back as the ground once again shook, this time behind you.

The golden dragon had landed right behind you and let out a vicious roar towards Rhysand, its eyes glowing with fury. It stood protectively over your shoulder, towering over you menacingly in a way that promised certain death to anyone who made a move.

“Dragons are protective creatures,” Eris said. “I wouldn’t get any closer.”

“You’ve invaded my court,” Rhysand hissed. “This is an act of war.”

Eris chuckled. “Technically, you declared war first. We’re just finishing what you started.”

Before anyone could speak up, a horn sounded from the ridge in the distance. You whirled around, the motion making you slightly dizzy. But your eyes were clear as ever as the banners of the Spring Court appeared over the hill.

Armoured bodies marched in synch as soldiers approached on horseback, led by none other than Lucien. His cloak streamed behind him in the wind as he loped towards the scene of the wreckage. You nearly wept, not having seen him since he rescued you. From the look on his face, Lucien felt the same way.

A different type of roar was carried fast in the wind, and a mighty beast winnowed in front of the army and led the march. Its elk-like antlers and massive body sped ahead of his troops with his great stride, bounding towards you.

“What is going on here?” Rhysand demanded, unable to hide the slight panic from his voice.

“You started this war when you stole (Y/N) from Spring,” Eris said coolly, patting his dragon. “We’ve found it in our best interests to align with Tamlin over the matter, not you.”

The dragons did not react as Tamlin’s beast form landed right beside them, growling. Tears streamed down your face in relief – the High Lord you had looked up to, the male you had helped get back on his feet, had joined in on the effort to save you.

“Rhysand.” Tamlin growled in greeting.

“If this is some sort of revenge plan on Feyre–” Rhysand began, but was quickly interrupted.

“This is not about her,” The High Lord of Spring snapped. “This is about (Y/N). You have kidnapped and imprisoned an esteemed member of my court, which is considered an act of war. I do not want to shed blood, but we will if you refuse to let her return to me.”

“(Y/N) is a member of my court now.” Rhys responded, evening out his voice. You knew he was trying to put on his collected mask, but it was cracked and slipping. You snorted at the weakness of his voice, and the dragon behind you made a similar noise, as if it was mirroring you.

“Is she?” Lucien said, halting his horse next to Tamlin and looking at Rhysand with a hatred you didn’t know he had. “Because she is still registered as a member of Spring. You never opened any accounts or filed any legal documents with her name, so according to the law there is no proof that you have taken her in as an official member. Which means you have wrongfully imprisoned a member of another court.”

“This is absurd.” Rhys scoffed. “Get out of my court. Now. This is my business.”

“Hand (Y/N) over and we will.” Lucien responded. The armies of the Spring Court halted a few metres behind the dragons, hands clasping their weapons, ready for the order to jump into action.

Malice glittered in Rhys’ eyes. You knew he wouldn’t give up easily, not when you had already made him look weak once. “No.” He said firmly.

No sooner had the syllable left his lips did a band of silver fire wrap around his throat. He cried out in pain as the flame danced, licking at his skin but not quite burning. The silver dragon’s roar turned all eyes to Nesta, and your heart jumped at the sight.

Nesta had stood up on her dragon’s back, silver flames wrapped around her fingertips and arms. The clouds darkened above everyone, thunder rumbling in the distance as her eyes glowed brighter.

“You locked me up.” Nesta’s voice was cold as ice and sharp as steel. Nobody moved a muscle as it echoed alongside the eerie cries of the wind. “I helped you, dozens of times. And you locked me up because I didn’t cope with the war YOU dragged me into in the way you deemed acceptable. I was an object to you, one to use and exploit when it suited you only to lock me away again when you were done. None of your circle has had any respect for me, Rhysand. From the beginning, you have pitted yourselves against me because it’s easier to make me the bad guy than take a look at your own flaws and mistakes. You took my human life, my money, my house, and everything I had. I was never a person to you, just a problem.”

Even Tamlin had gone completely still as Nesta twisted her hand, causing another band of fire to appear. This time, it bound Rhys’ hands and ankles, forcing him to his knees. Black mist attempted to make its way through the fire, but was rapidly quenched. Rhysand’s magic was no match for Nesta’s fury.

“I am taking my life back, Rhysand.” Nesta said. “And you and my sister will have no say or part in it. Do not come after me, do not try and bring me back here. If you try, I will burn you to nothing but ash.”

Rhysand growled, thrashing against Nesta’s fire. “Azriel!” He barked. “Do something!”

The shadowsinger was pale faced, surveying the scene before him. “Let her go,” He said sternly. “This is a fight we cannot win.”

You found your feet again, standing up on shaky legs. You summoned more magic – your body protested, but you ignored it as a shimmering white gag wrapped around Rhysand’s mouth, joining his silver flames.

“This isn’t a debate.” You panted, the weight of your tattered, shredded dress making you want to collapse. But you relented. “I am leaving with them, and you will let me.”

Tamlin’s beast form crawled towards Rhysand, growling. “I was wrong to lock Feyre up, I know that.” He spat. “But don’t pretend like you didn’t do the exact same thing to Nesta and (Y/N).”

Rhys mumbled something through the gag, but was ignored. You felt a nudge, and the golden dragon was gently pushing its snout into you. You placed your hand on its nose, letting the beast inhale your scent.

“Zorzimril says it’s time to go.” Eris quipped, smirking down at you. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You nodded, glancing up at Nesta. Your mate.

Her eyes were locked on you, and a faint tear ran down her cheek. Tentatively, you reached towards the spell-made bond. Nesta?

I…. I can’t believe I’m hearing your voice. Nesta’s response came, and so did your tears. Your lungs shook as you inhaled deeply between sobs.

Me too.

There will be time to catch up later. Come, let’s leave.

The golden dragon had lowered its shoulder to the ground and looked at you expectantly. Tentatively, you climbed onto its back, grasping the horns down its spine as you settled yourself. From the view on dragonback, you surveyed the site you had been standing on. Rubble from the mountain was everywhere, the great peak crumbled into a small hill. The gags on Rhys had disappeared, but he remained kneeling, face twisted with anger. Azriel stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder and giving Eris a slight nod. Tamlin and Lucien stood side by side once again, united with a common cause. Your heart swelled as you recognized the faces of the soldiers they brought – many of them fae that you had taken into the manor after losing their homes to Hybern. You could see it in their eyes that they had come not just because they were ordered to, but because they wanted to help you like you had helped them.

“Let’s get out of this wretched court.” Eris sighed, winking at you.

“Wait.” You said as an idea popped into your head. “I have something I want to do first.”

Nesta smirked at you, knowing exactly what you meant.

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

You, Nesta, and Eris soared on dragonback through the Night Court, approaching the Inner Circle’s mountainside cabin. You relished in the cold air whipped across your face, having not felt fresh air in weeks. Zorzimril happily flew you alongside Nesta, making happy growling noises as the excitement of what you were about to do made you jittery.

As your dragons approached the cabin, they stopped, hovering in the air above it. You looked towards Nesta and Eris, and they gave you a nod. You shouted the command Nesta had taught you, and Zorzimril unleashed a torrent of flames upon the cabin. The scent of burnt wood filled the air as the structure was quickly engulfed. Within ten seconds, it was reduced to ash.

And so the three of you flew to each remote residence of the inner circle, making sure it was away from the city before burning it to the ground. With every palace set aflame you whopped with delight, causing Eris to chuckle. It was satisfying, watching their luxuries burn down while half of Illyria was starving and poor. The Inner Circle had fled to the River House, the one shared residence of theirs that remained intact due to it being in the city centre. You did not want to punish innocent people for the crimes of their leader, like Feyre had done to your court. No, this was proper vengeance. And you relished in it.

Despite your exhaustion and pain from the last few weeks, you let yourself cheer and cry out on the back of Zorzimril as you soared through the air between Nesta and Eris, headed for the thicket of the autumn trees in the distance, leaving the Night Court behind you.

AZRIEL POV

Azriel couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of your limp body, arms strung up like you were a piece of meat dangling from the chains. He had thought himself to be good at shutting off his emotions when it came to his line of work, but this felt different. Wrong, even. It confused him – not once had he ever hesitated, ever even considered disobeying his High Lord’s orders down in these dungeons.

Your hair was matted and lifeless around your face, the weak rise and fall of your chest being the only indication that you were even still alive. The beautiful gown that adorned your body at the ball was now tattered and dirty, barely clinging onto your skin in some places. Azriel gulped as he stared at your unconscious form, wiped out from Rhysand’s attempts to penetrate your mind.

Evidently, the High Lord was beyond frustrated, his brow furrowed and sweaty from the efforts. “I’ve never seen this,” He muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “Not once. I’ve always been able to get inside people’s heads. Why not hers?”

“I don’t know.” Azriel responded. He felt his shadows curl around his scarred fingers. Normally they did so to encourage him to get the job done, but this time felt different. It was as if they wanted him not to end your life, but to reach out and free you from the shackles. But he ignored them.

Rhys slumped against the wall, panting slightly. “I need answers, Az.” He snapped, voice sharp. “How is this girl able to withstand my magic? And how the hell did she access some ancient spell that allowed this bond to form with Nesta? I would prefer to know before I end things, so whatever shit she may have put in motion can be stopped.”

Azriel stiffened. “End things?

The High Lord sighed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, Azriel. You know this is how it has to end. She spent months plotting against our court, and possesses some form of magic within her bond with Nesta. She’s a threat and you know it. And threats like that must be eliminated.”

He spoke with that authoritative voice that Azriel had seen bring so many others to their knees in obedience. He felt it tug at his bones, the instinct to obey his High Lord. Azriel had always considered himself loyal, never needing that extra kick to submit to his superior. Until now. “I disagree.” Azriel said sternly. “(Y/N) has lied, yes. But she has shown no signs of intending to inflict harm upon this court. All she wanted was to get out, and she knew we wouldn’t let her.”

“I don’t recall you being this blind, brother.” Rhysand’s voice was low as his violet eyes sternly stared down his spymaster. “Did she flash you her tits during training sessions? Is that why you’ve suddenly gone soft?”

“No. I think we pushed her too hard, too fast into this job she did not want. She had already lost everything in the Spring Court, and when Lucien brought her here she immediately became a prisoner. Did you expect her to bow at your feet and be eternally grateful for letting her stay here? We should have given her a reason to want to become a part of this court, not force her into it within a span of months.”

Rhysand let out a growl, and Azriel knew he was pushing his limits. “Careful, Az.” He said. But Azriel ignored him.

“Can you blame her for resenting us?” The shadowsinger continued, against his better judgement. “Our High Lady destroyed her court, and when Lucien brought her here she was forced to live indebted to the female who allowed her home to be ruined.”

There was a low rumble within the cell as Rhysand’s dark mist began to creep out from behind him. “Choose your next words wisely, Azriel. Or I’ll begin to think you’ve helped her.”

“I didn’t, and you know it. But your protectiveness for your mate is clouding your judgement as a leader, Rhysand. This girl does not deserve to die for what she has done.”

Before he could breathe another word, a sharp pain cut through his throat as Rhys’ dark power wrapped around it, cutting off his air. Shock flooded through him, hazel eyes bulging as the violet eyed male snarled at him. He didn’t try to fight back. Not once had his brother gone this far – sure, they had their fair share of nasty fights, but never like this. No matter how angry they had gotten with each other, neither had ever threatened the life of the other. Until now.

“That is not your call to make, spymaster.” Rhysand snarled furiously. “I am your High Lord before anything else, and you are sworn to me. My word is law, not yours. You will go and search for more insight into this bond between her and Nesta. Whether you find anything on it or not, (Y/N) will die by your hand at dawn tomorrow. You will not protest, and you will not breathe a word about this to anyone. If I sense even for a second that you will disobey me, I will throw you in a cell beside this scheming whore. Am I understood?”

Azriel nodded as best he could, body still frozen in shock. After a moment, Rhysand’s tendrils finally retreated, leaving the spymaster gasping for air. Despite working alongside him, being the executioner to his master for over 500 years, Azriel had never known what it was to be like on the receiving end of his High Lord’s pure fury until now. He glanced over at your strung-up figure, guilt churning in his gut. You had endured this torture for days, a torture Azriel only received a glimpse of.

As the spymaster inhaled deeply kneeling on the cold floor, his shadows whispered to him. He knew deep down that he had a choice to make, one like never before. 500 years of loyalty to Rhysand was being put to the test, something Azriel never thought would happen. Another glance at how intensely Rhys was staring at your imprisoned, starved form was all he needed to winnow away.

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

Azriel’s throat still burned from the pressing of Rhys’ dark mist. He kept his demeanour calm as he approached the doors to the library at the House of Wind, even though his stomach was in a thousand knots. He knew what he was about to do was treason at the highest order, and the second Rhys found out he would be flayed alive. The clenching and unclenching of his scarred fingers was the only indication of his disturbance as the spymaster was met with Clotho. Her pale robes shone in the blue light of the library as she approached him.

Shadowsinger, Her elegant writing appeared on the paper in lieu of her voice. What can I do for you?

“I need to see Gwyneth.” Azriel said, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice to not alarm the priestess.

Gwyn is occupied right now. May I take a message?

He gulped nervously. “I’m really sorry, Clotho. But I need her right now.”

That will not be possible. I suggest you return at another time, Azriel.

“Please.” Azriel hated begging, and hated pushing the priestess even more. But before Clotho could script a reply, a gentle voice sounded from behind the shelves a few metres away.

“Azriel?” Gwyn’s red hair appeared, streaming down her flowing robes as she carried an alarming amount of books. “What are you doing here?”

“Gwyn, I need to speak with you in private. Right now.” He pleaded, hoping Clotho wouldn’t shoo him away.

Gwyn’s teal eyes were puzzled, but she nodded. “It’s alright Clotho.” The priestess merely nodded beneath her hood before turning and disappearing back into the stacks.

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief as Gwyn put down the books. She walked towards one of the offices, and he followed her in silence. The room was tense as she closed the door behind him.

She crossed her arms, which made him halt. Normally his interactions with Gwyn were pleasant, leaving his shadows singing happily afterwards. But the way she was staring at him with a hardened glare made him want to shrink back.

“Where is (Y/N)?” Gwyn said sharply.

Azriel took a deep breath, unsure of how to approach this. He didn’t know what version of that night at the Hewn City had reached the ears of the priestesses. “Gwyn–”

“Don’t bullshit me for one second, Azriel.” The redhead was unyielding, but he could see the anxiousness within her as her throat bobbed with every word. “Nesta left for Autumn with Eris, but (Y/N) never returned from the Hewn City that night. What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything–” He started, but Gwyn cut him off abruptly.

“I said don’t bullshit me, you fucking liar!” Her voice rose, long fingers clenching and trembling with anger. It was enough to make Azriel take a step back, shocked at the fire within her. “I heard you grabbed her and whisked her away that night. What the hell did you do to my friend?”

Azriel leaned against the desk, wiping his face with his hand. His heart cracked a bit, knowing that trust and companionship he had built with Gwyn while training had come crashing down. He hated himself for it, for being so blind in following orders that led him to this place. His loyalty to Rhysand came at a price, one he had always been willing to pay until now. “I’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I was following orders.”

“What is wrong with you?” Gwyn hissed, her words cutting him sharper than Rhysand’s magic had. “You took away her one chance of leaving this gods damned court peacefully. You took away her freedom out of stupid, blind loyalty.”

“How did you know what happened that night?”

She snorted. “You and your little circle like to treat us priestesses like we’re these fragile little flowers living in our own little shelter, oblivious to the outside world. But people talk, and word reaches us. We aren’t as ignorant to the court as you think we are.”

“I never said that you were.”

“You basically just did.”

Shame washed over Azriel. He knew she was right, that he was a prick in assuming the priestesses remained clueless to what was happening in the court right now. And that’s why Clotho had been hesitant to let him into the library. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” He muttered, closing his eyes.

“Well, it did. Now tell me where my friend is, and why you’re here.”

Azriel took a breath, preparing to utter the words that would make this decision the point of no return. “I need everything you have on the bond between (Y/N) and Nesta.”

A flicker of worry crossed Gwyn’s teal eyes. “I don’t know anything–”

“Yes, you do.” Azriel interrupted her calmly. “My guess is you knew about their plan as well. Otherwise you’d be a lot more freaked out by Nesta marrying Eris.”

As panic began to set into the priestess’ face, Azriel softened his voice. “It’s ok, I’m not going to tell anyone. It makes sense that any information that Nesta and (Y/N) got on the bond was through you and your work. You are not in trouble, and nobody will hear from me that you helped them. I just need every scrap of information you were able to get your hands on regarding whatever magic they used.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you can give it to your master like a good dog playing fetch? Not gonna happen. He’ll use it to hurt both of them. I don’t care that he’s the High Lord, I won’t let him do that.”

Azriel stood up and took a step towards Gwyn. She didn’t shrink back, but rather lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Gwyn,” He began. “That’s not what this is. I’m not retrieving this information for Rhysand.”

The priestess blinked once, as if considering the gravity of his words. He wished he could spill the truth and tell Gwyn what he planned to do, but just uttering those words directly to her would put her at risk. “Then who are you retrieving it for?”

“Look, I am not trying to hide anything from you. But I told you… if you knew the truth, I would be putting you at risk for selfish reasons. And after all I have done, that is something I cannot live with. You just have to trust me when I say that it is for the right reason.”

“After hearing about how you so quickly stole (Y/N) away, I’m not sure if we have the same definition of the right reason, Azriel.” Gwyn’s voice was bitter, but there was a sadness to it that made the guilt churning inside of him threaten to spill over.

“I understand.” He said quietly. “And you have no reason to trust me right now. But please… if you’ve ever had any faith in me at all…just….just know that I’m doing this for (Y/N). And Nesta. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”

Silence overtook the room, the shadowsinger and the priestess standing mere inches from each other. After a long few minutes Gwyn muttered a ‘stay here’ before quickly fleeing the office.

She returned 15 minutes later with a few sheets of parchment paper and several books. They were placed upon the dusty table, and Gwyn took a deep breath. “This is everything I have on the subject,” She said shakily. “It’s not much, but it’s every document that could possibly give anything away about the bond between them.”

Without thinking, Azriel dropped to his knees in relief, bowing his head. “Thank you, Gwyn. Thank you.” His entire body was on the verge of shaking as the weight of what he was about to do began to truly set in. Everything he had known and defended was about to be put on the line.

“Promise me this, Azriel.” Gwyn spoke coldly. “Promise that this information gets into the right hands, not the wrong ones. You do whatever it takes to help my girls. After everything you and your family have done to them, you owe them that much. And more.”

“I swear it.” Azriel said solemnly, still looking at the ground. In a flash, he felt a cold blade pressing against his jaw, tilting his head upwards to gaze at the priestess. She looked like a goddess of justice, staring down at him with icy eyes.

“And I swear this to you,” Gwyn said coldly, a silver dagger in hand. “If you screw this up and they pay the price for it, no power in the world will stop me from hurting you. I don’t care that you trained me, or that you saved me on that day Hybern came. I will cut your throat if anything happens to Nesta or (Y/N) because of you. Understood?”

Azriel was enthralled at her strength. This was not the shy, nervous priestess that he had rescued from Hybern’s soldiers. Gwyn’s bravery had excelled since the second she stepped into the ring, and Azriel had marvelled at her progress during training, how comfortable she became with the outside world. Stupidly, he had credited that to his and Cassian’s training, thinking that it was what Gwyn, Nesta and the others had needed to heal like he and Cassian had. No, this strength had nothing to do with what he taught her. Behind her stern expression, Azriel knew that deep down this strength had come from the friendship formed with you, Nesta, and Emerie. He had been a fool to see it as anything other than that.

“I’m proud of you, Gwyn.” Azriel said softly before his brain could shut him up.

Despite the flicker of surprise across her face, she did not yield. “I do not need your validation. I need you to do the right thing and help my friends. Only after that will your statement be worth anything to me.”

Gwyn removed the blade from the spymaster’s throat and turned on her heel. Like a ghost in the wind, she was gone. Azriel’s chest was tight as he stood up, collecting the documents in his arms and praying that this possibly very stupid decision would be worth it. But after seeing the anger on Gwyn’s face, the hurt he had caused without even realising it…. Azriel knew exactly what he needed to do as he winnowed away.

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

The door in front of Azriel opened before he could raise a hand to knock, revealing the redhead male with a golden eye wide with surprise.

“Azriel?” Lucien said in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.” Was all he said in response before pushing his way past Lucien into the manor.

“By all means, come in.” The male muttered sarcastically.  But Azriel paid it no mind as he scanned the large living room for any sign of Jurian and Vassa.

“I’m alone.” Lucien quipped, settling down on the large brown armchair by the fireplace. “Since that’s what you were trying to figure out. I’m surprised you came by before (Y/N). I thought she’d have visited already, but I guess she’s been enjoying Velaris too much to be slumming it down in the human lands. When you see her next, thank her for the scarf for me, will you?”

Azriel’s heart dropped, head whipping sharply towards Azriel. “What?” He didn’t even bother keeping the surprise out of his voice.

Lucien frowned. “The scarf she gave me for the solstice? Rhys delivered it a day or so after, said she was busy on a new mission and asked him to drop it off for her.”

“Rhys was here?” Dread pooled in Azriel’s stomach. His High Lord was ensuring your disappearance would be quiet, giving him time to create a cover story before eliminating you.

“Yes… Why do you look so concerned? What aren’t you telling me?”

Azriel put his head in his hands, cursing. “You have no idea what’s been going on, have you?”

Lucien was still as a statue as he spoke. “I haven’t heard from (Y/N) since I got to the manor. When Rhysand visited, he said she had picked out a scarf for me as a present, and that she was sorry she hadn’t visited, but that she was loving her life in Velaris. And that she was training under you to work for the Night Court as a spy.”

Any desire to be secretive flew out the window as Azriel explained everything to the Autumn male – how you were not freely living in Velaris, but locked away with Nesta in the House of Wind. Your time spent back at the Spring Court to spy on your own people. Nesta’s engagement to Eris as a cover to escape the Night Court. Lucien was usually a collected male in Azriel’s eyes, but he could see the disbelief and anger in his expression as he told him the truth. When he was done, Lucien leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, speaking in a low voice. “So you’re telling me that you locked away my best friend, and everything I’ve heard about her for these past few months has been a lie.” Lucien said. “Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Azriel said quietly. “And now I’m trying to fix it–”

“Fucking hell!” Lucien exclaimed sharply, standing up abruptly and pacing back and forth. “Your court is a fucking shitshow, you know that? How the fuck can you let this happen, Azriel? You’re so far up Rhysand’s ass you didn’t see any of this coming?”

“I understand you’re angry–”

“Oh angry doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Lucien hissed, his red hair gleaming in the light of the fire. “You played right into Rhys’ hands, and now (Y/N) is being tortured in a cell somewhere because you let it happen instead of growing a fucking spine. And that doesn’t even begin to touch on the fact that Nesta was treated so horribly by you people she was willing to marry ERIS out of all people just to get away from it.”

Azriel had no defence. Defeated, he hung his head. Lucien was right about everything, and it was made worse by the fact Rhysand lied about your status to him knowing that the Autumn male was the only one likely to try and do something to stick up for you.

“Now what I can’t figure out is why you’re telling me this.” Lucien folded his arms, glaring at the spymaster. “You’re either betraying Rhysand and trying to fix this mess, which is brave but incredibly stupid. Or you’ve come here to see if I somehow had anything to do with all this so you can hang me up in a cell next to (Y/N). Which is it, shadowsinger?”

”I need your help.” Azriel admitted, meeting his harsh gaze. “I’m trying to turn this around, but I need to track down Eris. You’re my only shot.”

Lucien let out a harsh, heartless laugh. “I figured. You need my help. If you thought I wasn’t going to be any use to you, I wonder if you’d have even come here and told me the truth. Or would you have just let me live on believing this lie until word got around about (Y/N) meeting her tragic end on some mission.”

Mentally, Azriel was exhausted. Two redheads ripping him a new one was beginning to chip away at him more than he was already crumbling at the weight of his decision. Like Gwyn, Lucien was right. While he respected the male, Azriel doubted he’d have even considered coming just to tell Lucien the truth about what happened if he didn’t think Lucien could help. And his moment of silence told Lucien all he needed to know, for he scoffed again. “Of course not,” He continued. “You people just love exploiting those of us without any other options and then throwing us away like garbage when we’re no longer of any use to you.”

“Then help me make this right.” Azriel pleaded. “Tell me how to get to Eris, discreetly.”

“Can’t you just free her yourself and take her to safety?”

“No, there are ancient wards in that prison. I can pass through quickly and easily, but not so much with another person. Rhys would find us within seconds if she left that cell, and kill us both.”

“Then how do you propose we get her out?”

Azriel frowned. “I’m sorry, we?”

Lucien rolled his eyes, taking a hearty swig from his glass of wine beside him. “I’m going to help you get her out.”

Azriel shook his head, not liking how many people were involved in this already. “I can’t let you.”

“Bullshit. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not after everything you’ve done to create this mess. I’ll take you to Eris, and besides, I think I know something that can help us.”

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

The crisp scents of Autumn flooded Azriel’s senses as he paced the clearing. His mind whirled from his talk with Lucien, even more so at the male’s idea that they had discussed. Lucien had winnowed him here and told him to wait while he discreetly fetched Eris. It was a huge gamble – while you and Nesta had been willing to trust Eris, Azriel was not so keen. His dealings with the prince had always been tense at best, and vicious at worst. He knew he’d have to swallow his pride and put their history aside for this, however hard it may be.

Frankly, Azriel had no idea where in the Autumn Court he was. His shadows sensed nothing, no indication of where they were on the map. It briefly crossed his mind that Lucien could very well have led him into a trap as payback, but deep down Azriel knew Lucien wasn’t that type of male. However angry he might be at Azriel, he would prioritise getting you back. The clearing was massive, which made him feel far too exposed for his liking. There was a thicket of trees in the distance that he considered hiding in, but he owed it to Lucien to do as he was instructed and wait here.

It felt like hours before a strong gust of wind blew his tousled locks out of his forehead, and the presence of something Azriel could only describe as sheer power slammed into him like a wall. A thunderous roar sounded from the skies, unlike anything the shadowsinger had ever heard before. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him.

Three large dragons were flying ahead, circling above the clearing. Their wings were like claps of thunder, nearly sending him backwards onto the ground. Upon the back of the large black one was the unmistakable, arrogant figure of Eris Vanserra. He held onto the spikes going down the dragon’s neck as it soared above Azriel, roaring with the ferocity of an ancient battlecry. Azriel’s jaw nearly hit the ground as he spotted none other than Nesta Archeron, riding the elegant silver dragon with her hair blowing in the wind. Her eyes were a lethal glowing silver, resembling the scales of the very beast she was mounted on.

“Mother above…” Azriel whispered, flinching as he felt the ground shake beneath him. He turned around slowly, and was met with the third dragon, a riderless one with gold scales and large horns. It snaked towards him, growling fiercely. For a moment, Azriel thought the beast would open its jaws and roast him alive, but the creature paused, growling as it glanced behind the shadowsinger.

“I must say, you are the last person I expected to come here.” Came Eris’ cocky voice. Azriel turned back around, slightly nervous at the golden dragon breathing down his neck, and was faced with the other two. Ignoring Eris, his gaze landed upon Nesta.

She was perched upon the dragon like it was a horse, or even a throne, chin high like a queen from ancient times. Azriel’s breath left his body at the sight of Nesta with her hair unbound, trailing freely down her back and shining against her blood red dress. Whichever way her gaze shifted, the dragon’s did so too. It was like watching Nesta in a mirror, only her reflection was a dragon. It unnerved Azriel, and he was well aware of his vulnerability in this situation. Not only was he in enemy court, unauthorised at that matter, but three beasts he thought only existed in stories stood beside him, in the flesh.

“Lucien said you wanted to meet.” Eris said coldly. “You have ten seconds to convince us that it’s worth our time.”

“(Y/N) will die at sunrise tomorrow if we do not do something.” Azriel blurted out clumsily.

There was a moment of silence, and Eris looked towards Nesta. Her gaze was fixed on Azriel, and he squirmed underneath it. Her silver mount growled fiercely, as if it was sharing its riders' rage.

“Are we supposed to believe that you’ve suddenly had a change of heart and care about her?”

Azriel gritted his teeth. “I’ve always cared.”

Eris snorted. “No, not truly. If you had, then we wouldn’t be having this meeting. Because you’d have done something by now and grown a spine.”

“Your brother said the same thing.” The spymaster growled, already irked by having to negotiate with the Autumn prince. “I don’t need more reminding that I’ve fucked up, Eris. I just want to save her life, and I can’t do that on my own.”

“And it’s taken you this long to come to this realisation because…” Eris raised an eyebrow, amber gaze merciless. His dragon snarled, baring its teeth menacingly.

“I didn’t know Rhys would take things this far. I thought he’d want to find out everything about the bond before he made a decision on what to do with her. But he doesn’t want to wait, he wants her gone by tomorrow.”

“I assume he ordered you to do the deed?”

Azriel nodded, throat tight. “Yes. He ordered me to collect all information on the magic they used to create the bond before I…. before I kill her. Regardless of whether I came up with anything, he wants her eliminated by sunrise.”

This was probably the stupidest, craziest decision Azriel had ever made. Part of it felt wrong, betraying his found family after 500 years of peace. But when he reflected on those centuries, had he truly been happy? Had he truly felt like he was living a fulfilled life, content with what he was doing? A few weeks ago, Azriel would have been sure of his answer. Now he wasn’t, and that unsettled him.

Regardless, reached into his bag and pulled out the books Gwyn gave him. He took a breath and continued. “Which is why I brought every document the Night Court has on this magic to you. So Rhys wouldn’t get his hands on it.”

“You went to Gwyn?” Nesta burst out, rage dripping from her tongue.

“Yes.” Azriel admitted his guilt for putting Gwyn in this precarious position intensifying.

“You put her in danger by doing that!” The eldest Archeron hissed at him, her dragon responding in a similar tone. “If anything happens to her because of it, I will slaughter you, Azriel.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Gwyn said the same thing to me about you and (Y/N). I swore no matter what happened, nobody would find out I got this through her. She even put a knife to my throat.”

Eris spoke up again. “As much as I would truly love to believe you, if I recall correctly you were perfectly content sending (Y/N) to certain death weeks ago on an impossible mission under Rhysand’s orders.”

“I was trying to find a way out of it for her!” Azriel yelled, patience snapping. “A way for her to quietly flee and go build a life for herself far away from all this shit. I never told her because I didn’t want to scare her, or get her hopes up. I had the chance to explain this to her before…”

His voice trailed off, memories of seeing you strung up like an animal flashing through his mind. Azriel was no stranger to self hatred, but today it was striking him now more than ever.

Nesta’s lethal tone interrupted his thoughts. “Before what?” She demanded.

Azriel gulped, praying that the dragons wouldn’t make him their meal. “Before Rhysand interrupted and… took over.”

“Meaning?” Eris inquired, his dragon inching ever so slightly closer to the Illyrian.

“Meaning he thought I was being too soft, since I gave her water. He stopped the physical torture and spent hours trying to get inside her head until she passed out.”

“And he didn’t manage to do it?” Eris’ voice was laced with surprise, something uncharacteristic for the Autumn prince who always seemed to be two steps ahead of everyone.

“No.”

Eris and Nesta glanced at each other, unreadable expressions crossing their faces. Their dragons continued to stare down Azriel, awaiting whatever command would give them permission to incinerate him where he stood. He had a million questions for them – how the fuck did Eris have dragons? What did Beron say about all of this? Did they still plan on taking him out? But Azriel knew better than to ask them.

Nesta swung her legs to the side and crawled down the dragon’s side. To Azriel’s awe, the beast lowered its shoulder to the ground to make it easier for the female to climb off. Gracefully, Nesta’s feet met the ground and she patted the dragon’s neck. He remained frozen in his place as she stalked towards him. Like Gwyn, there was a new strength to her. This was not the half-starved Nesta who first came to the House of Wind. No, this was the female that stole from the Cauldron itself, whose name was whispered across the moors and valleys of Prythian, associated with pure death and power. Nesta’s steps were sure, silver fire expertly curling around her fingertips like Azriel’s own shadows as she stalked towards him like a lioness seizing up its prey.

“My war is not directly with you, Azriel,” Nesta said slowly. “But make no mistake. You are not innocent here. You may not have inflicted the most damage, but you willingly stood by and let your family tear me and (Y/N) down until they got pure submission. You let Cassian mock and belittle me at my lowest. You forced (Y/M)  into a job she did not want to do. You let Cassian force me to train as a warrior when that’s not at all what I wanted or needed. You didn’t do a damn thing to advocate for either of us because you’re so blinded by the sheltered little tower your circle has built over the last 500 years, ignorant to the pain you inflict on anyone who’s not a part of your family. You coming here on your own volition is the only thing in my eyes that could possibly redeem you. You will help us get (Y/N) back at all costs, or you will suffer at my hand more than you have ever suffered before.”

Being threatened for the third time that day, all Azriel could do was bow his head. “I understand.” He said.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Nesta hissed. “For your sake, let’s hope your change of heart isn’t too late.”

Azriel hadn’t even noticed Eris had climbed off his dragon and was walking towards Nesta. He stood beside her, gently resting a hand on her waist. Azriel tensed, half expecting Nesta to slap him away, but she did not. To his surprise, she looked comfortable with Eris. More so than she ever had been with Cassain. When Cassian touched Nesta, there was always some sexual suggestion beneath it. But not with Eris. Eris’ touch was comfort more than ownership, something Azriel did not expect.

In his heart, he realised Cassian and Nesta were not right for each other. It made no sense for them to be mates, and whatever they had going on was purely surface level sexual tension. There was nothing deep about it, no greater understanding of each other. Nesta and Eris seemed like a much more reasonable match, mirroring each other like they did with their dragons. As much as Azriel hated the male, and knew that these thoughts would crush Cassian’s heart, it reassured him that he had made the right choice.

“So, spymaster,” Eris piped up, cocking his head. “How are we doing to do this?”

And so Azriel began explaining.

“Are you even listening?”

“No, not really.”

Azriel rolled his eyes at you for what was probably the fifth time that hour. You were sitting in an office area of the House, a map of the Night Court laid out in front of you. Scrolls and manuscript were strewn across the desk messily, as if whoever had been in here last had not bothered to organize it. The soft glow of lanterns illuminated the table in an otherwise dark room, the window nearby facing the mountains rather than the vibrant city below. Azriel had followed through on his promise to teach you about the Night Court before your other training resumed, actually letting you sleep in for once.

Just this one time. He had promised, and you knew he’d meant it.

You had covered Illyria so far, to your distaste as much as Azriel’s. It was interesting how much he loathed his own people, but after delving into their practices you could see why.

“And Rhysand just lets this happen? He allows females be crippled and used for breeding?” You had asked when the spymaster told you about the wing-clipping practice.

“Illyrians are slow to change.” Was all Azriel had said. You pointed out that oh-so powerful Rhysand could simply make them change, or use his mind control abilities to influence the Illyrian leaders. But Azriel had only glared at you, ignoring your comment before moving onto the next subject – the Court of Nightmares.

Which led you to where you were now.

“So let me get this straight,” You said after Azriel rolled his eyes. “The Court of Nightmares is in the Hewn City, and that’s the side of the Night Court that the rest of the world sees and views it to be.”

“Correct.” Azriel huffed, blue siphons reflecting strange casts of light from the lanterns.

You straightened your back. “So my same point as Illyria still stands. Females are suffering there too – you said the Morrigan was rescued from her own family from that very court. But why’s she the only one being saved? What about all the other females in there being sold off into marriage like cattle?”

Azriel’s scarred knuckles tightened in annoyance. His voice was clipped and tense, as you were clearly testing his patience. “Like I said twice already,” He said through gritted teeth. “Change does not come easy. And besides, they have an agreement of sorts. Rhysand lets them do what they please, in exchange for recognizing his authority and providing an army if needed.”

“But you said they have the right to refuse.” You pointed out.

“Yes. The Court of Nightmares has autonomy within the Night Court. It’s the best way to keep the peace.”

“Except for the females.” You muttered, fiddling with a scrap of paper and tearing it up in your fingers. It wasn’t fair how Rhysand and Feyre had the power to help so many people, yet choose to keep things the way they are. Nesta had told you that Feyre often shifted into an Illyrian form – wings unclipped and able to fly her through the sky, above all the female Illyrians down below who were crippled and kept for breeding. The thought of her flaunting those wings when half of the Illyrian population had them taken away simply for being born female made you sick. But it was something to consider for your long-term plan.

“I know it’s hard for you to understand,” Azriel said lowly. “And I know it’s hard for you to hear this as a female. But we help out where we can with the resources we have.”

“No you really don’t.” You scoffed, and then spoke again before the shadowsinger could object. “But if that’s what you have to tell yourself to sleep at night then by all means.”

Azriel huffed, and you felt another twinge of guilt. It wasn’t entirely his fault – he had no authority over the High Lord and Lady, he couldn’t go behind their backs or tell them what to do. You wanted to like Azriel, and a part of you did. But the other part was resentful that like the rest of the Inner Circle, he did nothing to challenge their ways.

“I am trying to help you.” Azriel said slowly, turning his hazel eyes to yours. “I wasn’t lying when I told Rhysand that you had potential. You’re a quick learner, and you’re extremely clever. I want you to succeed and find your place in this court, but I can’t help you do that if you fight back with snarky comments every chance you get.”

“Have you considered that maybe adjusting to your court is difficult for me considering where I came from?” You challenged, meeting his gaze with your own. “Forgive me if it takes some time for me to come to terms that I live in a court where if I had wings or was born in the Hewn City my only purpose would be for breeding.”

“You haven’t been here for long,” Azriel said cooly. “Give it time.”

You sighed, dropping the remains of the paper onto the desk. “If you say so.”

Azriel stared at you for a minute, unblinking. It was impossible to read his expression, as usual. A strand of dark hair fell onto his forehead artfully, contrasting with the golden light and making him look like a painting. “What?” Your tone came out snappier than intended.

“I think you should spend some time with people from this court who aren’t part of the Inner Circle.” He suggested slowly, as if waiting for you to lash out. “Instead of just training with me, you can join the sessions with Cassian and the others. Would that be something you’re interested in?”

You paused, weighing your options before considering his words. Would that be something you’re interested in? He was giving you a choice – your first real choice at the Night Court that wasn’t coerced or scripted. If you wanted to say no, there would be no consequences. But then you thought about Nesta, and the friends she had made. You’d be able to meet them this way and get to know them – spending more time with Nesta was a bonus. You’d have more of an excuse to be around her now, and to coordinate your plan.

The fight. You mentally cursed yourself, remembering last the Inner Circle checked, you and Nesta were on the outs. You didn’t want to have to keep up the argument act, but maybe you could stage something else, something that made it seem like the two of you were on the mend. They’d think it was Nesta ‘healing’ because of them and pat themselves on the back, but you’d have to forgive it and let them have this temporary victory before you pull the rug out from under them.

“I guess I could give it a try.” You said hesitantly, nodding at Azriel.

His lips twitched in a small smile. “Good, be ready at 8 tomorrow.”

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

You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you stepped into the training ring. Sleep was scarce for you last night, leaving you groggy and tired as you dressed yourself in the leathers laid out for you. You hadn’t seen Nesta yesterday, but you sent her a mental note about planning for today.

The two of you agreed that you would be distant, but not outright avoiding each other to make it seem more real – Nesta would apologize to you, and you to her, making sure Cassian overheard. Everything was set, now all you had to do was survive the grueling training.

As you entered the ring, your eyes scanned for Nesta. She was sitting down near the corner, stretching alongside a pretty redhead and Illyrnian woman. Her eyes were clear, devoid of the empty hauntedness that had resided in them as she recounted the past few weeks. Hair neatly braided back, she snorted at something the Illyrian female had said.

Taking a breath, you nodded to Cassian and walked over to where Nesta was. The general nodded back, glancing towards Azriel who shrugged his shoulders.

You approached hesitantly, making sure to look nervous. You could practically feel Cassian’s gaze boring into the back of your head, analyzing your every movement like a hawk. “Hey,” You said quietly to Nesta.

“Hi.” Her voice was quipped, yet soft. She looked up at you, expression unreadable. You hated having to play these roles, but you pushed that aside.

“Can I join you?” You asked, fiddling with the loose strap on your leathers.

The other two females glanced at Nesta, one of them raising her eyebrows knowingly. You wondered what Nesta had told them about you, how much they knew.

“Actually,” Nesta cleared her throat and stood up, and you could feel Cassian’s gaze shift to her. “I was hoping I could talk to you. Come grab some water with me.”

You followed her, Azriel’s eyes now on you as well. The two Illyrian males tracked your every movement as you headed over to the water station, grabbing a cup from the table. You stood in silence as you took turns filling it up, waiting for Nesta to speak. Finally, she did.

“I wanted to apologize.” Nesta said, swishing the water in her cup. “For how we left things. You were nothing but kind to me, and I lashed out. You were my only friend, and I was cruel to you. For that, I am sorry.”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to watch Cassian’s reaction. “I’m sorry too,” You said after a few moments. “For what I said about everyone hating you. It was mean, and I didn’t mean it. I’d like to move past it, if we can.”

“Me too.” Nesta’s lips twitched as she spoke to you mentally. Don’t look, but Cassian just broke out into the biggest grin. He’s watching us.

I bet he’s proud of you for apologizing – thinks it’s all because of him.

Well, it’s not.

I know.

You smiled, following Nesta back over to the group. You glanced at Azriel, who gave you a nod of approval. It was working.

“So why did Azriel drag you here?” Nesta spoke up, interrupting your thoughts.

“He thinks it’ll be good for me,” You said, stopping to pick up a mat from the racks. “To spend time with others from the Court.”

Nesta hummed, sitting back down on her stretching mat as you unrolled yours. “Well, this is Gwyn,” She said, gesturing to the redhead. “And this is Emerie.” The Illyrian female raised her hand in greeting.

“I’m (Y/N).” You said, offering a friendly smile. Gwyn’s large, teal eyes gleamed, the freckles on her pale skin were like stardust in the sunlight. She seemed shy, but courageous. You knew she was a priestess in the library, meaning she had likely been through the unthinkable – the fact Nesta was able to convince her to come out of the library made your heart swell with pride.

Emerie glanced up and down at you, a smirk pulling at her lips. “We know,” She said. “We’ve heard all about you.”

You chuckled as Nesta fixed the Illyrian with a stern glare. You’ve told them about me, now have you? You said to Nesta.

Shut up. Her reply was just as stern as her gaze, but there was some lightness to it. Her cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment – it was adorable.

How much do they know? You quickly asked her.

They know we had a fight. They don’t know it was fake, but I think they suspect something. I trust them though, they won’t say anything unless I tell them first. They’re good people.

Works for me.

“We wondered when you’d be joining us.” Gwyn quipped, extending her other leg and reaching down to touch her toes. Nesta turned the other way, focusing on stretching her hip.

“Yeah, well Azriel knew I’d go crazy only seeing his face for the next while so he decided to chuck me in here with you guys.” You said, making Gwyn giggle. “He needs Cassian’s alliance to deal with me sometimes.”

In the distance, Azriel snorted. He’d clearly been listening, which was good. You wanted him to hear everything. You turned to look at him, and he shook his head and sighed. Emerie laughed, missing nothing. “Mother above, what do you do to him?” She said.

You shrugged, clasping your arms behind your back and stretching them behind you. “I make his life hell pretty much, isn’t that right?” You called out the last part loudly.

The shadowsinger walked a few steps toward you, hauling a large mat across the floor. “You certainly don’t make my job easy.” He muttered, setting it down in the middle of the ring.

You rolled your eyes, turning to ask Gwyn about how her training is going but stopped. Gwyn was watching Azriel, teal blue eyes following the movements of his muscled arms as he shuffled equipment around. She caught your gaze, blushing and quickly looking away.

“So,” You said, turning to Nesta. “What are we learning today?”

“More strength exercises, apparently.” Nesta huffed, groaning and clutching her stomach. “My abs are still killing me from yesterday.”

“Are we ready to go, or just going to sit there complaining all day?” Came Cassian’s loud voice. The four of you exchanged a glance, huffing as you stood up and kicked your mats to the side.

You liked Gwyn and Emerie. You could tell Nesta was relaxed around them in a way she wasn’t with the others in the court. You found no jealousy churning in your gut, only pride. Nesta having friends was a huge step, but then you realized something – eventually, you and Nesta would leave the Night Court. Gwyn and Emerie would have to be left behind, unless somehow they were okay with your plan and snuck away with you. But two females fleeing the Night Court was already risky enough, let alone adding two others to the mix.

We’ll worry about that later. You said to yourself, taking a deep breath and extending into the position Cassian was demonstrating.

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

“Nesta,” Cassian said after the four of you collapsed onto the mat, panting from exhaustion. “If you were to name a sword, what would you call it?”

Gwyn answered, though she hadn’t been asked, “Silver Majesty.”

Emerie snorted. “Really?”

Gwyn demanded, “What would you call it?”

Emerie considered. “Foe Slayer, or something. Something intimidating.”

You laughed. “That’s no better!”

Nesta’s mouth tugged upward at their teasing. Gwyn looked to her, teal eyes bright. “Which one is worse: Foe Slayer or Silver Majesty?”

“Silver Majesty,” Nesta said, and Emerie crowed with triumph. Gwyn waved a hand, booing.

“What would you call it?” Cassian asked Nesta again. You paused, confused as to why he was so persistent. Apparently, Nesta was the same because she glanced to you before speaking up.

“Why do you want to know?” She asked.

“Humor me.”

She lifted a brow. But then said with all sincerity. “Killer.”

His brows flattened.

Nesta shrugged. “I don’t know. Is it necessary to name a sword?”

“Just tell me: If you had to name a sword, what would you call it?”

“Are you getting her one as a Winter Solstice present?” You asked.

“No.”

“Then why keep asking?” You pressed, eyes fixed on Cassian suspiciously.

Cassian scowled. “Curiosity.”

But his jaw tightened, but you knew it wasn’t that – there was something else.

Why would he want you to name a sword? You asked Nesta.

No idea. She replied. I went to a blacksmith with him a few days ago and helped forge some blades. But that’s it.

“Back to work,” he said, clapping his hands and interrupting your thoughts. “For all that sass, you’re doing double time on the Valkyrie lunge hold.”

Emerie and Gwyn groaned, but Nesta surveyed Cassian for another moment before following their lead. You glanced at Azriel, puzzled, but he averted his gaze. You immediately grew even more suspicious – normally he’d just stare at you with that blank expression, revealing nothing. But his avoidance made you question what he wasn’t telling you.

Just over an hour later, you were back on your stretching mats cooling down. Legs shaking from the grueling exercises, you took a sip of your water before realizing it was empty.

“Here, give it to me.” Emerie said, extending her hand and taking your cup. “Gwyn and I are going to get more water before we all die of thirst.”

“Thanks!” You called out as the Illyrian female and the priestess headed over to the water station. Nesta glanced towards you, and you heard her voice in your head.

I’m going to talk to Cassian.

Before you could stop her, she stood up and stomped over with her arms crossed. You  glanced at Gwyn and Emerie, who were too deep in their own conversation to notice. Continuing to stretch, you listened in the direction of Nesta and Cassian.

“Why were you pestering me about naming a sword?” You heard her demand.

Cassian’s voice sounded in return, trying to sound nonchalant but failing. “I just wanted to know what you’d name one.”

“That’s not an answer. Why do you want to know?”

He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them. “Do you remember when we went to the blacksmith?”

“Yes. He’s giving me a blade for Winter Solstice?”

“He’s given you three. The ones you touched.”

Silence.

You heard the general tapping his foot on the ground. “When you hammered those blades, you imbued them—the two swords and the dagger—with your power. The Cauldron’s power. They’re now magic blades. And I’m not talking nice, pretty magic. I’m talking big, ancient magic that hasn’t been seen in a long, long time. There are no magic weapons left. None. They were either lost or destroyed or dumped in the sea. But you just Made three of them. You created a new Dread Trove. You could create even more objects, if you wished.”

“I Made three magic weapons?” Disbelief rang in her voice.

“We don’t know yet what manner of magic they have, but yes.” You turned towards the water station to see Emerie and Gwyn halting their chatting, as if they could see or sense the shift in Nesta. You turned towards her and Cassian, and you didn’t have to see her face to know anger was rising in her eyes.

“Who is ‘we’?” Nesta hissed.

“What?” Cassian said.

“You said ‘We don’t know what manner of magic they have.’ Who is ‘we’?”

“Rhys and Feyre and the others.”

“And how long have all of you known about this?”

He winced as he realized his error. “I ... Nesta ...”

“How long?” Her voice became sharp as glass. Everyone was watching now.

“This isn’t the place to talk about it.”

“You’re the one trying to coax a name out of me in the middle of training!” She gestured to the ring.

Cassian’s face grew pained. “This isn’t coming out the way it should. We argued about whether to tell you, but we took a vote and it went in your favor. Because we trust you. I just ... hadn’t gotten a chance to bring it up yet.”

“There was a possibility you wouldn’t even tell me? You all sat around and judged me, and then you voted?” You could feel something deep in Nesta’s chest cracking, to know that every horrible thing about her had been analyzed.

“It ... Fuck.” Cassian reached for her, but she stepped back. Everyone was staring now. “Nesta, this isn’t ...”

“Who. Voted. Against me.”

“Rhys and Amren.”

You sucked in a breath. Rhys was not a surprise – he hated Nesta and everyone knew it. You personally were not surprised by Amren, but could tell by the way Nesta froze that she was hurt. She had told you briefly that she shared a sort of friendship with the female once, before it all went to shit.

Cassian’s eyes widened. “Nesta—”

“I’m fine,” She said coldly. “I don’t care.”

She rolled her shoulders and strolled back to where you all were watching. Gwyn and Emerie looked at her with concern, but she did not acknowledge it. She left the ring without looking back at Cassian, or any of you.

Emerie was on her heels instantly, trailing her down the stairs. “What’s wrong?” You heard her say.

“Nothing,” Nesta’s reply came. “Court business.”

“Are you all right?” Gwyn asked, a step behind Emerie.

“Yes.” Nesta said before vanishing down the hallway. You wanted to go after her, but held back, remembering that Cassian and Azriel had to think you two were still only on your way to making full amends.

Talk to me. You begged, but no response came. You heard nothing but felt the roaring in her head. Nesta had gone silent again.

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

It had been hours, despite your searching Nesta was nowhere to be found. You looked in every corner of the House you could think – the library, her room, your reading nook, nothing. Nesta had not reached out to you either, but you hoped once she calmed down she would.

Your mind wheeled from earlier. Nesta had made a new trove, and the Inner Circle didn’t even tell her – Cassian wasn’t even going to tell her, he only did because it slipped out by mistake. It was apparent they felt entitled to not only Nesta’s autonomy, but her powers as well.

Stomach churning, you crawled into bed and tried to sleep.

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

The next day came, and nothing was heard from Nesta. Azriel had not come to check on you either. Something was wrong.

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

Nothing the next day.

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

On the third day, you stood on the balcony. Your eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, hair unkept. You hadn’t slept once since Nesta disappeared, and nobody had told you anything. Training was suspended temporarily with no explanation, and worry nagged away at your gut. You had no idea where Nesta was.

Please, You begged her for the millionth time. Let me know you’re okay. I’ll do anything, Nesta. Just… please tell me you’re ok.

You felt a sudden gust of wind behind you, cooling the sweat on the back of your neck. You turned around, seeing Azriel. A few feet behind him was Rhysand, which filled you with dread. The High Lord looked haggard, his raven-black hair disheveled and his black shirt wrinkled. Azriel didn’t look much better either.

You stormed over. “What the hell is going on?” You demanded, not caring who you were talking to. Rage took over, that familiar sea of anger rose inside of you.

“(Y/N)...” Azriel began, taking a step towards you.

“Where have you been?” You cut him off, glaring. “What the hell happened that everyone disappeared for over two days? Where is Nesta?”

“Let me explain–”

“You…” You hissed at Rhysand, pushing past the spymaster. You stormed to the High Lord, who looked defeated. “This is all your fault.”

“What are you talking about?” Rhys’ voice was flat.

“I heard Nesta and Cassian arguing,” You hissed. “She made some sort of magic weapon accidentally and instead of telling her and letting her help decide what to do, you voted about it without her? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

The High Lord’s violet eyes sharpened, and he glared at you. You felt his presence surrounding you, pushing you to submit to him, to his power. Instead, you ignored it, staring down the male who you hated so much.

“Nesta is fine.” He said sternly.

“Then where is she?” You demanded, cocking your head. “Why did she just disappear?”

Rhysand growled. “She’s with Cassian, they’ve gone away for a couple of days.”

“Rhys…” Azriel’s deep voice sounded from behind you. The High Lord’s simmering violent gaze went glassy for a split second, but enough for you to know that he was telling his spymaster something.

“No,” Azriel said firmly, striding over to face his High Lord. “She deserves to know.”

You furrowed your brows. “Know what?”

Rhysand hissed. “Quiet.”

“No,” Azriel growled. “You put your trust in me to supervise her, and I say that she deserves to know what’s going on.”

“I’m with the shadowsinger on this one.” You said, folding your arms across your chest. Rhysand had not moved, just continued to glare down at you.

He didn’t trust you, that much was easy enough to detect. He still judged you for being from Tamlin’s court, as if you were responsible for Tamlin’s actions against Feyre. No matter how hard you worked, no matter if 500 years went by of you proving your loyalty over and over again to the High Lord, he would never trust you. He would always watch you from the corner of his eye with doubt.

“Fucking tell me.” You growled, fists curling. A scarred hand clasped your shoulder and squeezed, urging you to calm down.

“Come, I’ll explain.” Azriel said softly before glaring at Rhys. “I’m telling her, Rhysand. And if you want to stop me you’re going to have to use that mind control of yours.”

The High Lord’s jaw clenched, darkness filling the area. “I think you’ve grown too close to the matter, Azriel.” His tone was commanding and lethal. “Let’s go.”

“No.” You interjected, yanking your shoulder out from under Azriel’s hand. “You’re going to tell me what happened, right here, right now. And he’s going to shut up and give answers.”

Azriel bit his lip, possibly worried that Rhysand would strike you down there and then. He placed himself between you two. “Okay.” He said firmly. “You know how Feyre is pregnant, right?”

“Yes.” You said, caught off guard for a moment. Azriel’s voice sounded distorted as you got lost in your own mind, recalling Nesta’s words. That’s when we also found out Feyre was pregnant, although Rhys later told us that the pregnancy would kill her since the baby has wings.

“...so he decided to keep it from her until a solution was found.” Azriel continued, recapturing your attention.

“Let me guess, you haven’t found one and Feyre doesn’t know.” You stated, looking at Rhysand instead of Azriel. The High Lord said nothing, only continued clenching his jaw and glaring at you.

“Not yet,” Azriel said calmly. “But she does know now. In her anger from the vote, Nesta decided to storm into the city and tell Feyre about what everyone else knew – that the baby would kill her.”

“Good.” You shot back, furious – while Feyre was far from your favourite person, she was a female who deserved to be able to make a choice about what to do with her body and the baby that was killing her. “Feyre deserved to know, you idiots. How could you keep this from her?”

“Nesta told Feyre to hurt her and to spite me,” Rhysand growled. “Not because she had her best interest in mind.”

No shit, You thought. Nesta owed you nothing. She had all her choices taken from her, and she wasn’t about to let that happen to her sister.

“Shut up, Rhys.” Azriel growled, causing the High Lord to blink in surprise. “But yes, she told her out of anger. Everyone got mad, and Cassian grabbed her to get her out of Velaris. They’re staying in the mountains for a few days until everything calms down.”

Your blood stilled. Something didn’t make sense – you understood taking a few hours apart, but days? Either Azriel wasn’t telling you something, or Rhysand was withholding information from his shadowsinger. You heard stories of the heightened emotions that went along with having a mate. If Feyre was upset and Nesta had been the cause of that, Rhysand would have been angry as hell. Possibly angry enough to….

“You threatened to kill Nesta, didn’t you?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your gaze landed on the High Lord.

He didn’t answer, so you spoke again, louder. “Didn’t you? That’s why Cassian had to stay away for a few days with Nesta, because he was worried that you’d kill your mate’s sister.”

Azriel furrowed his brows, the first time you’d ever seen him confused. “That’s not true,” He said, but his voice was flat, as if he was trying to convince himself of it as he turned to his High Lord. “Right Rhys?”

The High Lord of the Night Court gave no answer, darkness curling around his fingertips as he stared you down. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to mist you on sight – you laid him bare and tore him down in front of his most trusted friend, exposing him for what he really was. And he hated it.

“Rhys?” Azriel’s voice lowered.

Rhysand finally spoke after a few seconds. “I’m not going to hurt Nesta.”

“But you threatened to?” You challenged.

“Yes.”

Azriel sighed. “Are you fucking kidding me, Rhys?”

A rage that you hadn’t felt before bubbled up inside you. The High Lord of the Night Court, who let the females in Illyria and the Hewn City suffer and be used as breeding cattle, had threatened to kill Nesta, his mate’s sister. Despite how much he claimed to love Feyre, he still treated her like any female of his court by not giving her a choice – he could offer sanctuary to the females in Illyria or the Hewn City like he had with the priestesses in the library, but he didn’t. This male insisted that the monster facade he put on for other courts was purely for show, but you knew that at his core, that’s just who he really was.

And he chased Nesta out of the city because she did what he was too afraid to do.

“This is all your fault, Rhysand.” Your voice was steady, cold as the edge of the sharpest blade. “You didn’t tell your mate that she was going to die, and you threatened to kill Nesta because she let her sister have a choice. You locked her up here because you couldn’t control her like you do the others, pretending like it was for the sake of helping her. You let two thirds of your court live in suffering, then wonder why they hate you. You’re a terrible ruler and an even worse mate, Rhysand. And you will get what’s coming to you.”

The High Lord said nothing as you turned on your heel and strode back into the House, leaving him and Azriel alone on the balcony.

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

The next few hours felt like a blur – part of you expected Rhysand to return and rip you to shreds for threatening him. It was stupid of you, but you didn’t regret it – you could tell by the way Azriel’s demeanor changed as he found out Rhys neglected to mention his threat to Nesta’s life that he was shocked, and mad that he was not informed of it. Maybe seeing you stand up to Rhys would give him a backbone after all.

You drifted into sleep, hoping that you wouldn’t wake up in a cell.

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

A gentle hand on your shoulder woke you. Your vision was blurry as you lifted a head from the pillow, the sunlight casting a golden glow on the female sitting on your bed.

Nesta.

All sleepiness was gone and you bolted upright, not caring that it made your head spin. Before you could say anything, her arms wrapped around you and held you tight. In your grogginess, you yelped and fell back, head hitting the pillow once again. Nesta followed, still clinging to you as her weight landed on top of you but you didn’t care. The hole in your chest from the past few days swelled as you held the eldest Archeron in your arms again, clutching her as if she would float away.

Tears flowed down your cheeks as Nesta nuzzled her head into your neck, her shoulders shaking, indicating she was crying too. The two of you laid there, Nesta laying on top of you and clutching onto your frame as if you were her lifeline. A white, soft glow began to shine from your sternums, merging into one beautiful light. It filled the room as you held each other in the embrace – life and death entwined into one beautiful force.

“Nesta…” You sobbed, bringing a hand up to cradle her head.

“I’m here.” Her voice was shaky as she spoke into your neck. “I’m here, darling.”

“Azriel told me everything,” You choked out between sobs. “About Feyre and the fight. And the mountains. And Rhys… he threatened to kill you….”

“I’m so sorry…” Nesta’s voice was muffled. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shh.. It’s not your fault.”

“I wanted to reach out, I really did. But I couldn’t. I just broke out there, I wanted to die. I couldn’t do it.”

Fresh tears washed out the dried ones, and you held her closer. You wanted to burn Rhysand and his inner circle to the ground for this, for breaking Nesta down until she truly believed she was unworthy of life and love.

“It’s okay,” You said quietly. “You’re here now. You’re safe.”

Nesta took a deep breath, but didn’t lift her head from your neck. She just kept holding you. “We hiked through those mountains for two days.” She whispered, voice hoarse. “Cassian was so mad at me. He had me haul the backpacks, he didn’t notice when I fainted. He didn’t speak to me unless it was to order me to eat or drink. Then when I broke, he held me. I thought he was going to stand up for me, say what Rhys did was wrong, that all of this was wrong. But then he wanted to fuck me just a few hours later. That’s all I am to him, isn’t it? Something to fuck but not enough to love?”

“Did you…?” Your voice trailed off, embarrassed for asking. You felt bad, regretting the question even though it had not fully formed.

“No.” She said quietly. “He was surprised. He tried a few times, but didn’t push it. He respected my decision, but I think he could tell something had changed.”

You inhaled deeply, letting her scent fill your nose. You missed it, craved it while she was gone in a way you couldn’t quite understand. Everything you did, every move and plan you made to escape the Night Court at its core was for Nesta. The female who laid on top of you, curled into your arms, had fought so hard and been through so much. She had been forced into a life she didn’t want, and would have to live in it for the rest of her immortal life. You wanted to get out of the Night Court not just for yourself, but so Nesta could have a chance to truly live.

“Besides,” Nesta said, lifting her head and staring down at you with grey eyes glistening with tears. “Cassian isn’t the one I wanted to do this to.”

Nesta leaned town and pressed her lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the kiss, grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her closer. Her soft lips tasted as sweet as you remembered, but this kiss was different than the last one. Last time, it was all fire and desperation, but this one was sure and intimate. Nesta’s weight on top of you was comforting, her legs tangled with yours as she tried to get as close to you as possible. Your lips broke apart for air. Your heart fluttered as she tilted her head and kissed you again, stroking your tear stained cheek with her hand. It was passionate, but not rough or overly sexual like you were pretty sure she was used to with Cassian – it was a kiss that came from the heart, just sexual desire.

The drums of time slowed down as your lips melted together. The glow between your chests continued to shine like starlight, shutting off the outside world. There was no Rhysand to threaten you, no Troves or death gods – it was just you two.

Needing air again, your lips broke apart. Nesta took a shaky breath, pressing her forehead into yours.

“It’s you.” She said breathlessly. “It’s always been you.”

You and Nesta were careful to avoid each other the next day. Whenever Cassian or Azriel were nearby, you were sure to cast cold looks at each other, the frost between you two so realistic and palpable you were almost proud.

When Cassian was in the kitchen eating breakfast with Nesta, you made sure to take your plate to your room. If you sat in the corner of the library reading, Nesta would take her book elsewhere. You missed that ease between you two that you had built up over the past few months, but knew you had to let it go to plan for the long term.

Nesta had begun training with Cassian, which you knew was hard for her. She was weak, in body and mind from both lack of nutrition and trauma from the past year. It can’t have been easy for her, or her pride, to agree to it. However, you knew deep down that she must not be making it easy for Cassian, the thought of the two of them snapping at each other the whole time made you chuckle.

As you suspected, it took a week for the shadowsinger to approach you. No doubt he had told Feyre and Rhysand of your spat with the High Lady’s sister and they saw the perfect opportunity to use you to their advantage while you were vulnerable. It was mid morning when you heard a polite but firm knock on your door.

“Come in.” You said, brushing the charcoal off your hands. You had found an art supply room in one of the cupboards, filled with your favourite materials – thick, black paper and white charcoal with smudge sticks. You loved art, specifically drawing in this medium, so you had set up an easel with the paper in your room.

The door creaked open, and Azriel stepped in. The first thing you noticed was that his shadows kept to themselves, still revealing themselves enough to remind you that they were there but not so as to intimidate you. His dark hair had a few loose strands that hung into his sharp, tanned face. Those hazel eyes almost glowed, as if they could see into your very soul. He was clad in his usual Illyrian leathers, and you momentarily wondered if that was all he owned. He had a strong presence, but was not as scary as you thought he’d be.

For that, you were somewhat relieved. The last thing you needed was the Night Court’s spymaster trying to intimidate you into doing what they wanted.

“Good morning.” Azriel said politely, leaving the door open to your relief. “I see you have found the art supply closet.”

You nodded, not giving him an answer. You tried to calm your racing heart – the thought of having to try and fool the Night Court’s spymaster made you want to die, but you had to give it a shot. Which meant not being suddenly agreeable.

“The High Lady enjoys painting,” He said when you did not answer. “Perhaps you would like to attend one of her classes.”

“Is she even good?” You snorted, smudging the corner of your charcoal onto the black paper.

Azriel was quiet for a split second, before answering, “Yes.”

You laughed sharply at his hesitation. “I thought you were supposed to be good at lying, spymaster. Besides, I don’t think prisoners are allowed to join art classes.”

“I could take you–” Azriel began to offer.

“You didn’t come here to talk about art with me.” You interrupted him. “What do you and your High Lord and Lady want with me?”

Azriel’s expression remained stoic, irking you. “I heard your fight with Nesta.” He said simply.

You forced yourself to flinch, pretending like the news was a shock to you. Those hazel eyes bore into yours, searching for something. So you avoided his gaze, feigning discomfort.

“It’s none of your business.” You mumbled, busying yourself with rearranging the white sticks of charcoal at the bottom of the easel.

“She seemed eager to stand up for you the other night,” Azriel’s gaze didn’t change one bit. “What changed?”

You took a shaky breath. Fooling him may be harder than you thought. “You were the one listening apparently, so why don’t you tell me?”

Azriel took a step closer to you, and for a second his eyes softened. “Are you okay?” He asked, his deep voice quieter than before.

You gulped. “I’m fine,” You answered. “I’ve moved on. Not like I knew her well.”

“You spent a lot of time together,” Azriel countered. “And she practically started a fight with Rhysand at dinner over you. She clearly cared for you more than I’ve seen her with anyone besides Elain, but then again I do not know her well either.”

“Key word being ‘cared’, shadowsinger.” You told him, meeting his gaze. “Nesta made herself clear the other day.”

Azriel said nothing, just stared at you. It took everything in you not to squirm beneath his gaze – it frustrated you being unable to read his expression, or figure out what he was up to. Realizing he wouldn’t be the one to break the new silence first, you spoke up again.

“You didn’t come here to discuss art, and I also doubt you came here to discuss my fight with Nesta,” You challenged him, straightening your back. “So I’ll ask you again, what do you and your highnesses want with me? I assume they sent you here after you told them about the fight.”

“They did. Feyre knows how mean Nesta can be, and wanted to be sure you were alright.”

“Bullshit.”

“Do not speak about my High Lady with such disregard, (Y/N).”

“Try and stop me. I’ll speak about her however I want, unless you’re going to use that pretty blade and take my tongue for it.”

You and Azriel glared at each other, neither backing down for a few minutes. Normally you’d have glared until he took the hint and left, but you had to swallow your pride and submit to that piercing hazel gaze.

“There’s something else though, isn’t there?” You said, averting your eyes and brushing dust off your skirt. “Or else they wouldn’t have sent you.”

For a second, you thought the shadowsinger would simply ignore your words, and just keep glaring at you. But he folded his flared wings and clasped his scarred hands behind his back.

“The High Lord and Lady have a proposal for you.” Azriel stated formally.

So it’s working. You observed with relief.

“And you are here to take me to them?” You asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

To your surprise, Azriel let out a short breath almost like a laugh. “No,” He said. “They figured that after the manner in which your last few meetings had gone, their presence would make you…antagonized.”

You rolled your eyes. “Less agreeable, you mean.”

“To put it honestly, yes. Would you have preferred to speak to them directly?”

“No.”

“Which is exactly why I am here. Shall we go fetch lunch? Nesta and Cassian are at training so they will not be joining us.”

You sighed, knowing refusing wasn’t an option. You had expected he would just barge in here and demand you comply, yet he wasn’t. You had heard stories of the legendary shadowsinger, tales of how dangerous and terrifying he was, and yet all you saw was a stoic Illyrian general.

Which is exactly what made him so dangerous.

Deciding it would be in your best interest to play along, you peeled off your smock and set it on the stool. “Lead the way.”

Azriel led you to the kitchen, remaining a few feet ahead of you. His shadows swirled around his shoulders as he moved, curling around his massive wings as if they were watching you. You did not doubt that they were.

When you arrived, he pulled out your chair for you before grabbing your plates from the counter and setting them down. He sat opposite of you, waiting for you to start eating.

He’s not getting what he wants that easily. You thought indignantly, deciding to make his job just that extra bit harder.

“I’m not eating until you tell me what they want.” You said, lifting your chin up.

Azriel sighed, exasperated and likely pissed off that he was the one stuck dealing with you. “Just eat.”

“I will. When you tell me what they want from me. Why the feared spymaster of the Night Court has nothing better to do than sit here trying to get me to eat my veggies.”

The steel balls you had to talk to him like that was almost laughable – if you had been told a year ago that you’d be snapping at the Night Court’s spymaster without a knife to your throat you’d have fainted.

Clearly, he thought so too, for his once stoic expression was now tight with annoyance. “Are you always this difficult?” He asked.

“Yes.” You replied.

A vein in Azriel’s neck twitched, as if he were contemplating just saying fuck this and leaving right then and there, or if he should give in in order to do what Rhysand and Feyre asked.

Evidently, it was the latter.

“As you know, Tamlin allowed Hybern into his borders and it destroyed his court–”

“Thanks to your High Lady.” You interrupted, unable to help yourself. It earned you a sharp glare.

“Which matters not.” He continued, annoyed. “The war is over now, but Tamlin is still a threat.”

“How?” You gawked. “The male has literally nothing left, no armies or spies, not even his own people. How does that pose any threat to the Night Court?”

“The fact he has nothing left is what makes him so dangerous. He has nothing left to lose if he wants to take revenge–”

“Again, thanks to your High Lady.”

“Could you let me fucking finish?” Azriel snapped. You almost giggled at the shadowsinger’s thinly stretched patience with you, but even you knew better than to push further so you sat back and hugged.

“As I was saying,” He continued. “Tamlin is dangerous. He hates Feyre and Rhysand, and spends his time roaming his court in beast form. He has an extreme amount of power, and if he decides to turn it towards us we need to know.”

“So send in your spies to keep an eye on him.” You snapped.

“It’s too dangerous, none of them would get past Tamlin.” Azriel said. “But you would.”

So I was right, You thought smugly. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the Night Court would want you to spy on your own High Lord for them as payment of your debt to them.

“And why would I spy on my own High Lord?” You asked. “Also, you’re forgetting one very important detail, shadowsinger. I’m not a spy.”

Azriel set his fork down, folding his arms and tilted his head. “You don’t have to be a spy. You just have to be yourself.”

You sighed, folding your arms in return. You knew where this was headed. “I just have to report to you, is that it?”

Azriel nodded. “Yes. Tamlin knows you, he will not question you, I doubt he even has noticed you were gone. You will convince him to let you stay at the manor, and report to me anything suspicious. And since you don’t know how to shut that mouth of yours and use it properly, I will train you.”

You nearly burst out into laughter at the innuendo. You couldn’t deny that Azriel was handsome, so the thought of letting him teach you how to use your mouth wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. That is, if you weren’t a prisoner in his court. And if you didn’t hate his superiors.

“So let me get this straight,” You said, shaking away your weird thoughts. “You want me to meander back into the Spring Court, ask my High Lord if I can live in his house, and then spy on him and report his movements to you? But I have to train with you first so that he doesn’t find out, since I’ll be risking my life doing this? Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“What do I get out of it?”

“You get out of the House of Wind, for starters.”

“Not good enough. I want a salary.”

Azriel choked on his coffee, staring at you in surprise. You rolled your eyes at his shock, amazed that he thought you’d do this for free.

“What?” You asked. “I’m absolutely not doing free labour for you. The only people who don’t pay their prisoners are Hybern, you know.”

“You’re not a prisoner.”

“That’s literally so much worse.”

“We have fed and housed you at our expense for the past three months.” Azriel snapped.

“And I’m sure their pockets are hurting terribly for it,” You hissed back sarcastically. “Didn’t Mor mention they were building a fifth estate during dinner? Surely they can afford to pay me for my work. Also, it is common courtesy to help an injured member of another court if they end up in your territory. Surely after 500 years of politics you’d all know this?”

Azriel grunted, and you tried not to grin at your victory. You could tell he saw some truth to your words.

“I’ll speak to Rhysand about it.” He grumbled. “Any other conditions?”

“If I think of any I’ll let you know.” You said cheerily, finally picking up your fork and digging into the meal in front of you. You could tell Azriel wanted to snap back, but refrained himself when he saw you were holding up your end of the bargain.

“You have eighteen hours to decide,” Azriel said, standing up. “Because we start tomorrow.”

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

Our plan is working. Azriel is going to train me as some sort of spy. Your sister and her mate want me sent back to Spring Court to spy on Tamlin for them. I demanded pay, of course, which pissed them off. How’s Cassian coming along?

You left the note in the designated book, returning a few hours later to find one for you in the other book.

Good. Training is brutal, everything hurts. At least Cassian is being nice about it. Apparently he and Rhys met in the Spring Court with Eris the other day, not sure why. Maybe you’ll be able to find out.

Your brow furrowed as you read this new information. Part of you was suspicious – if Eris was popping up in the Spring Court, right where you were supposed to be sent, it was extremely convenient. Maybe too convenient. But could work very well in your favour.

Frankly, Nesta would probably have better luck getting the details out of why Rhys and Eris are meeting in secret from Cassian than you would from Azriel. It didn’t escape your notice how the General padded after Nesta like a lost puppy, wearing his heart on his sleeve whenever she lashed out. Part of you was jealous, and you hated yourself for it. You had no right to envy their time together – it was all part of your plan after all, and they did share a kiss during the war. Cassian seemed like a better male than Rhysand at least, maybe he’d let Nesta in on their plans. You prayed he did, otherwise it was up to you to pry information out of Azriel, and may the Mother help you if that was the case.

Speaking of Azriel, you noticed a note taped to your easel upon your return to your room after some more reading. You had spent the rest of the evening reading, only seeing Nesta once out of the corner of your eye. She was passing through on her way to the dining room, clad in tight fitting Illyrian leathers that almost made your jaw drop. The way the pants clung to her hips as she walked–

You had to physically shake your head as if it would clear the thoughts away. The two of you had to assume Azriel was somehow watching every corner of the House, so you couldn’t make a smartass comment about her leathers. Maybe you’d write it later in a letter….

No, You thought to yourself angrily. That’s inappropriate.

Frankly you didn’t even know if Nesta liked females in that way. You both liked males, that much was clear, but you had always enjoyed females as well. Frankly, if you and Nesta weren’t cooped up in the House of Wind together you doubted she’d even notice you. Perhaps you were reading too far into things, that the only reason you and her got close so quickly was because you were all each other had.

But you also couldn’t help but notice the little things about your interactions. How she had fallen asleep on your shoulder, when she was normally plagued by insomnia and nightmares. How she slept soundly through the night with you by her side, as if she felt safe in your presence. How she stood up for you so fiercely against Rhysand. The way she let you have the first plate of pancakes because she knew how much you loved them. Seeing her hard gaze soften ever so slightly at you when you ranted on about something you were excited about. Nesta appeared tense and cold around others, but there was a certain light she emitted when it was just you and her.

But what about Cassian? Whether you, or her, liked it or not, something had happened between them during the war. She had let him in, in some way, and clearly something else had gone down that caused her to shut him out. Yet you overheard them talking sometimes, and the sharp edge to her voice that she usually reserved for the Inner Circle was not entirely there.

None of this matters. You thought to yourself. It’s not the time or place. Nesta’s been through some shit and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable or be too forward.

So your feelings for Nesta, whatever they were, you shoved aside for the time being. Taking a breath, you began to read the message from Azriel.

I spoke with the High Lord and Lady. They have agreed to pay you a salary for your services, provided you deliver. If you wish to accept the offer, meet me on the balcony at 7am tomorrow. Azriel.

You groaned at the thought of having to meet that early. Spying was something you did not know how to do, nor did you have a clue as to what its training entailed, but you supposed you were about to find out.

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

“You’re late.”

It took everything in you not to throw your mug at Azriel’s head. “It’s 7:01.” You snapped back, irritated from lack of sleep. Truthfully, you had spent most of last night worrying about what today would bring. Azriel unnerved you, his ability to get information from people was known to fae across all courts. You just prayed you didn’t slip up, although in your exhausted state you could promise nothing.

Azriel glared, visibly irritated. “And I told you to be here at 7.”

“I’m literally one minute late.”

“Time is important in this kind of work.”

“Oh get over yourself,” You hissed, sipping your hot tea to try and warm up. “I’m here aren’t I?”

The shadowsinger said nothing, just fixing you another hard glare. You finished the last of your tea, taking your sweet time as he watched you. Slowly, you placed the cup down on the table, satisfied you had already annoyed him.

“Alright,” You said finally, your voice laced with obvious fake cheer. “What am I learning how to do today, spymaster?”

“You’ll find out.” Was all he said before turning away from you. Without another word, the shadowsinger walked away towards the other end of the long balcony. Realizing you had no choice, you followed him.

The balcony wrapped around a corner of the House, turning into a stairwell that led down. The chilly morning air wasn’t the only thing giving you goosebumps – you had no idea where Azriel was taking you, as you had never been in this area of the House before.

“Where are we going?” You asked hesitantly. Azriel ignored you, leading you further down the stairs until you came to a large wooden door. He pressed the back of his hand onto the lock, blue siphon glowing at the contact. A soft click sounded, and the door swung open. The spymaster stepped aside, gesturing for you to go inside.

“Yeah no, you first.” You snorted, planting your feet firmly on the ground. Azriel rolled his eyes, but stepped into the dark room anyways.

As you and Azriel entered, torches from the walls began to light up and illuminate the space. Your jaw dropping to the floor was a genuine reaction to what you saw.

The room was absolutely massive, almost never ending. There were various obstacles across it – rope, nets, and wooden beams alike all carefully placed. There were mats in the center, and a vast array of gear and weapons strung up on the wall. It made your gut churn, surely you were not expected to take on all of this?

As if he could read your mind, Azriel spoke up. “Don’t worry, you won’t be using most of this stuff, it’s too advanced.”

“Then what am I doing here?” You gawked. If this was his weird personal training room, surely it wouldn’t be suitable for whatever he was teaching you.

“I cannot make you a trained spy in so little time,” Azriel said, walking over to the wall and grabbing something from a trunk. “But with a couple days of hard work, I can at least make sure your chances of getting caught are lessened. You need to be able to move unseen, and make a quick escape if need be. And how to defend yourself, or more if someone figures you out.”

Your throat dried up. “You mean how to kill someone and make it look like an accident?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper.

You didn’t even care to look at what Azriel had grabbed from the trunk, you felt numb as the realization of what you were doing kicked in. The fact the High Lord was willing to put you in this position–

“It’s a grave necessity,” Azriel’s voice cut off your thoughts. “Ideally, you will not have to kill anyone, nor defend yourself. But it’s a risk in this line of work, and it is my duty to prepare you for the worst case scenario. It is unpleasant, but necessary.”

“You want me to be prepared to kill someone from my own court.” Your chest felt hollow. Why did you agree to this?

Sensing your uneasiness, Azriel stepped closer. You felt a soft brush against your arm as one of his shadows reached out and brushed your skin as if to comfort you. “Believe me, that is not my wish,” He said. “I do not like it any more than you do. But if Tamlin finds out you are spying on him for us, it could lead to another war and more violence. He is unstable, and even if he doesn’t kill you immediately he will make sure to kill others for it. If one of his guards suspects something, you will have to take care of the problem. Preferably not with murder, but it is a last resort option if you need it.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Tamlin, as unstable as he might be, wouldn’t hurt you, especially after suffering the consequences of inflicting injury upon Feyre. You had known the High Lord since you were a child – one evening, your father had fallen ill during a meeting at the manor. He had brought you along with the intention of having you play in the stream with the children of other diplomats and sentries during the meeting to keep you occupied. He had gotten too sick to take you home, and it was too risky to send someone to take you both back to your village, lest they contract whatever illness your father had. While your father rested in his guest chamber, Tamlin had kept you entertained. He accompanied you as you wandered through the gardens, explaining what each flower was. He hoisted you up in the air so you could pick the ripest apple from the tree, laughing as you shook a branch that led to some other apples falling onto his head. He read you bedtime stories and tucked you in at night. The High Lord stayed by your side in the three days it took your father to be well enough to travel, and you had never forgotten that kindness. No matter what Feyre said about him, no matter what Tamlin did to her, you would always remember that side to him and hoped it was still there after Feyre had carved his heart out.

Azriel’s voice saying your name snapped you out of your memory.

“Sorry,” You mumbled. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

The spymaster straightened up, shadows returning to him. “Good. Now turn around.”

You blinked, noticing the piece of cloth in his scarred hands. “Tell me that isn’t a blindfold.” You snapped.

“It isn’t a blindfold.” He responded dryly.

“Yes it is. You lead me into a dark room and want to put a blindfold on me? Kinky.”

“Just do as you’re told.”

You rolled your eyes, but obliged. Again, if your younger self heard she was letting the Night Court’s spymaster blindfold her in a secret room, she’d shit bricks. Azriel stepped behind you, gently placing the black cloth over your eyes and securing it. “Is it too tight?”

“No.” You responded.

“Good. Now you’re going to walk towards the training mat. Step onto it and wait for my instructions.”

“I don’t know which direction it’s in, I can’t fucking see.”

You could practically feel Azriel rolling his eyes at you. “You saw it when you walked in,” He said shortly. “Remember what the room looked like and where you have moved since then. It’s part of the exercise.”

Gritting your teeth, you tried to picture the layout of the room. The training mat had been in the centre, and you had turned slightly to the left when Azriel went to the trunk. Slowly, you turned your body back in the way you were originally facing and began walking forward.

Each step was unsteady, unsure if you were going to trip over some weapon on the floor. You felt like a baby deer taking its first few steps.

“Trust your instincts,” Came Azriel’s voice. “We rely on our sight too much, so let your other senses do the work.”

Eventually, you found your way to the mat, slowly stepping up onto it. You were certain you had looked like an absolute fool doing so, but you made it.

Suddenly, a set of hands came out of nowhere and pushed you over hard. Your face collided with the mat ungracefully.

“What the fuck was that?” You snapped, cheeks red as you stumbled to get up.

“You should have heard me coming.” Azriel’s voice growled. “You were too focused on the mat you forgot your environment around you.”

Your face went red with anger. “Yeah because I got like, two seconds to glance at the room before you blindfolded me, asshole!”

Azriel snorted. “Two seconds is more than you’d sometimes get, but if you’re not serious about this then we can find something else for you to do.”

“No,” You protested. “I am serious about this. But I haven’t done anything like this before so could you maybe cut me some slack?”

You heard the shadowsinger scoff. A bit wobbly, you paced around in a circle, following Azriel’s footsteps as he walked around you. You began to feel dizzy, his shadows swirling in the air and disorienting you further.

You took a deep breath, anticipating his next move. You felt movement behind you, but before you could react something solid cracked against the back of your knees. With a yelp, you yet again found yourself on the ground, legs stinging.

“Not fast enough.” Came Azriel’s stern voice. “Up.”

You bit back a retort, tears beginning to swell. You hated how pathetic you felt, how humiliating it was to have the spymaster of the Night Court blindfold you and knock you to the ground twice as if you were a child. You wanted to give up, to scream at him that you didn’t want to do this, but you held back.

I’m doing this for Nesta, You realized. For myself, yes, but also for her. If I fail at my part of the plan, she’s stuck here too.

With newfound determination, you heaved yourself up off the ground, steadying your legs. Azriel made no comment, just continued to pace around you, letting his shadows confuse you. His footsteps echoed, making you unsure of where they truly were. So you took another deep breath and focused harder, letting your other fae senses take over and hone in one where the footsteps were strongest.

After a few minutes, you felt movement to your left. Quick as a rabbit, you stepped to the right, feeling whatever solid pole Azriel was using strike the air where your left arm had just been. It barely missed you, but did not find its mark.

“Better.” Azriel said. “Again.”

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

The next two weeks consisted of the same pattern. Wake up at the literal ass crack of dawn, train with Azriel until the early afternoon, and then spend the rest of your day reading. You had made surprisingly good progress, which Azriel begrudgingly admitted after you pressured him into it. You were able to avoid almost all of his strikes while blindfolded, navigate obstacle courses making minimal noise, and even managed to sneak in a smack to his pretty face during a sparring session.

He was going easy on you with the fighting, you weren’t stupid. He let you get that strike in, perhaps hoping it would boost your confidence and encourage you to do a good job in the Spring Court. You were thankful he hadn’t figured you out yet, but the thought of it still haunted you and twisted your gut with worry.

Nesta’s updates were continuing to come every few days. Apparently, Elain had come prying and it ended disastrously. You snorted at that, unsure of what good Elain thought would come out of visiting the sister whose belongings she shipped off. Cassian had taken Nesta to the river house to discuss Braillyn, the mortal queen. Nesta had written that she was after three Troves: a Mask, a Harp, and a Crown. That letter had been particularly long, detailing what they did and why she sought them, also explaining that Braillyn had made an alliance with Beron Vanserra. Oh, and Rhys essentially forced Nesta to try scrying by using the threat of poor delicate Elain having to do it.

That letter made your head spin. You sat in your room as you read it, contemplating all of what you just learned. Beron was in an alliance with the mortal queen, did that mean Eris was working against the Night Court? The thought delighted you, until you remembered what your village looked like as Hybern destroyed everyone in it. No matter how much you hated the Inner Circle, their citizens have done nothing to deserve such a fate. It would be up to you to figure out which side Eris was truly on if he was making visits to Spring.

You stuffed the letters under your bed sheet, fingers searching for the slit you had carved into your mattress. You knew it would be smarter to just burn them, but you couldn’t bring yourself too. It had been weeks since you had seen more than a fleeting glance of Nesta, and your heart ached. You couldn’t bring yourself to destroy something she had touched and created for you.

A few hours ago, Azriel had informed you that you were going to the Spring Court tomorrow. You had scrawled a note to Nesta rapidly, hands shaking slightly. It had been months since you had been in Spring – you had not yet figured out how to explain your absence to Tamlin, if he even noticed.

I’m being sent to the Spring Court tomorrow morning. I don’t know how we will stay in touch, but I’ll be thinking of you. We’ll find a way.

Later that night, another knock sounded at your door. Confused, you stood up – surely the details of tomorrow’s meeting with the Inner Circle before your departure hadn’t changed? You trudged over to the door, ready to snap at Azriel for disturbing you so late. Only it was not Azriel who stood at the door.

It was Nesta.

You barely had time to acknowledge her standing there before she practically ran into the room, closing the door behind her.

“Nesta, what the hell are you–” You hissed, ready to snap at her for being so reckless after weeks of trying to convince Azriel that you were on the Night Court’s side and still fighting with Nesta.

“I found a way,” She interrupted, breathless and eyes glowing with determination. “A way for us to stay in contact.”

You blinked, dumbstruck. You had assumed that you wouldn’t hear from her while in Spring, unable to think of how to get letters to her discreetly. “How?” You asked.

“There’s a spell,” She said, grabbing the book in her hands and flipping through the pages. “It’s like the bargain spells the fae make, but slightly different. It’s old as shit and technically was the wedding vow of some ancient goddess, but it should work. If I’m right, and if we say it correctly, we’ll be able to communicate like it, sort of like Feyre and Rhysand do with their daemati abilities.”

You took a look at the female in front of you. She had gained weight, looking more muscular than before – her collarbones no longer jutted out, and her hair had more shine to it. She truly looked beautiful, you thought.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to do the spell?” Nesta interrupted your thoughts, lips twitching upwards.

“I’m just so happy to see you.” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” Nest said. “But I can’t stay long, it’s already risky enough taking the time to do this. It’s now or never.”

You nodded, and the Archeron sister grabbed your hands in hers. Her hands were cold, but firm as she brought up your joined hands and took a step closer. And another. You held your breath as she stood so close that her knuckles brushed your sternum, and yours against hers. And then she began to speak, in a voice so low and ethereal it could have belonged to the Mother herself,

I bind myself to you, In flesh and in mind, I am yours, and you are mine, until the stars take their last breath, and world collapses beneath our feet, our ghosts whispering in the wind, soon we shall meet.

A sensation as hot as fire and cold as ice spread from your joined hands onto your chest. You couldn’t pull away, like an invisible force kept you still as it felt like a hole was being burned into your sternum. The two of you gritted your teeth, sighing when it finally passed.

You peered down your shirt, half expecting to see a gaping hole. Instead, a glowing silver star had appeared between your breasts on your sternum. It was an eight pointed star, the four vertical and horizontal points larger than the smaller diagonal ones. Eight rays stemmed from the space between each point, and there was a small circle in the centre with lines connecting to each peak of the biggest points from within. It was beautiful, you had to admit.

“Will it always glow?” You breathed, still in awe at the magic you had just witnessed. You and Nesta were now binded with an ancient spell, and the seriousness of that finally hit you.

“No,” She replied, also panting. “Only when the other is in danger. If you say ‘evanescere’, it will fade until you command it to reappear.”

At the ancient word being mentioned, the glowing stars from your sternums faded, along with the tattoo.

“It is still there and so is its magic,” Nesta continued. “But we can hide it just in case.”

You nodded, still reeling. You and Nesta now had a way to communicate with each other – it would take some time to figure out how it fully worked, but knowing you wouldn’t be entirely alone made you happy. “Does this mean we’re technically married?” You joked. “Since we used some ancient wedding vow for the spell?”

Nesta laughed. “It holds no legitimacy as a vow,” She explained. “It was more of a declaration laced with magic to help her communicate with her wife without being daemati. If we can use it that way too, we won’t need to risk sending letters.”

“Nesta Archeron you’re a genius.”

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes, hands entwined just staring at each other. Even though you knew you would probably be safe in Spring, you could not help but gaze at her features and trying to memorize them in case you never saw her again.

Tensing, Nesta let go of you. She straightened herself up, blinking once. “Alright then. Good luck in Spring. Let me know how it goes.”

Your heart ached a little as she turned to leave. You wanted to beg her to stay, but knew it would ruin your plan. However, Nesta paused before her hand could touch the door handle.

“Nesta?” You asked hesitantly when she did not open the door.

“Fuck it.” The female mumbled, turning around and rapidly walking back over to you. Before you could ask what she was doing, Nesta grabbed your face in her hands and crashed her lips into yours.

You staggered back at the passion of it, melting into her mouth – she tasted like cinnamon and honey, and you almost moaned in happiness. You gently placed your hands on her waist, squeezing slightly as she continued to kiss you like it was the end of the world.

Nesta Archeron was kissing you. Holy fuck.

It felt like both ages and seconds at the same time when Nesta’s lips left yours. Her hands remained cupping your face, and worry crossed her features as if she was afraid she had done something wrong.

“Nesta,” You breathed quickly before she could shut down on you. “I’ll miss you a lot.”

“I’ll miss you too.” She muttered, but did not pull away out of regret like you feared. Rather, she stroked your cheek slightly with her left thumb. “Be safe.”

As quick as she came, Nesta Archeron was gone. And you didn’t know when you’d see her again.

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