#poly!tog

Lorcan and Rowan would rather drop dead than see fear in your eyes inflicted by them. The males would never forgive themselves

They hate disappointing you too, that’s what really breaks their hearts. The first time they disappointed you was when they had to cancel date night over an emergency in the Wastes Aelin needed Lorcan and Rowan to assist with

You had tried to hold back your tears when they told you but you couldn’t help it. It was the first time in a long time they had to say no to you. While in the Wastes everyone was tiptoeing around them due to their bad mood

When Lorcan and Rowan came home a few days later they more than made it up to you by taking you to all your favorite places in Terrasen and on cute dates (not to mention activities in the bedroom)

Out of the 2 Rowan is the less grumpy of your mates. Rowan is the easiest to snap from a bad or brooding mood into doting on you 

All you do is wrap your hand in his and Rowan is looking at you like you’re the reason for the sun rising as he coos at you. “Hi love. How’s your day going? Can I get you anything?” he asks, bring your hand up to his lips to press kisses across your knuckles. “I’m good Ro. I just wanted to say hi.” you smile and Rowan’s heart skips a beat

Lorcan is a little harder to bring out of his brooding and boy does that male looovvveees to brood like it’s his second job

Whenever you enter a room the pair of them light up, the rest of the world fades away and you’re the only person in the world to them

It doesn’t matter who’s around Rowan and Lorcan will always gravitate towards you

Out of the two Rowan always knows the right sweet words to say to you

But when Lorcan dotes on you ooohhhhhh it is sweetness overload 

If there’s a threat against you, forget about it. All bets are off. They go from your loving mates to lethal warriors and will kill anyone who tries to cause you harm

At the first sign of danger Lorcan and Rowan are quick to step in front of you to shield you, reaching behind them to hold you and make sure you’re still with them

Lorcan has growled at someone for staring at you the wrong way

Doarian and Manon had uncovered a plot to kidnap you, Aelin, and Lysandra and Lorcan worked around the clock to make sure the threat was neutralized

Selfishly, Lorcan does not care about Aelin and Lysandra. He cares solely about you

One night, long after the threat has been taken care of, Lorcan woke up to find you gone from bed, the sheets between him and Rowan cold as the silver haired male slept

After Lorcan has his freak out moment he follows his shadow and that feeling in his chest that connects the 3 of you, finding you curled up in his usual armchair by the fireplace. One of his daggers laying on the end table next to the chair

Lorcan tries not to make too much noise, the last thing he wants to do is sound threatening to you. You felt him the moment he started to worry. A gentle hand rests on your shoulder but your gaze never leaves the windows

Lorcan wasn’t used to being gentle before you. He was always rough and direct and many people called him blunt and rude. Never you though, you brought out a side of Lorcan he never knew he had

Moments like these with you still trip him up. If you think he sounded rude Lorcan would sew his mouth shut to avoid speaking another rude word to you ever again

“Angel,” he says, resting a large hand on your shoulder. “What are you doing out here? Did something happen?” You shake your head and look up at him with tired and scared eyes. “Oh angel. Talk to me.” Lorcan picks you up so he can sink into the chair, placing you on his lap and holds you close to his chest

“I know you and Rowan will always protect me and that you handled…it. But I’m still scared, Lorcan. What if there are others? What if they come back?” you ramble, wrapping your arms around Lorcan tighter and tighter

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

The Cambrian Mountains were burning.

Smoke drifted in through the open walls of the palace. Your mother stood beside you, looking worried for the first time in her life.

Mistward had fallen last night, word coming from the only survivor, the one demi-fae with at the outpost with the ability to shift, his secondary form an albatross. Most of the villages dotting the mountains had been seized, all their villagers slaughtered except the rare omega or two.

It was only a matter of time before the armies of Fenharrow marched on the City of Rivers and slaughtered your people, the ones you had been taught to protect. You already knew that you would go down fighting with your mother, each breath spent to save your beloved city and its people.

A call for help had been sent to nearby Wendlyn, though you knew it would come too late. Fenharrow had amassed an army off the shores of the Cambrian Mountains and marched quickly through them, the surprise of the attack and their might too much for your defenses to hold them at bay for even a day. No help would come soon enough.

You didn’t miss that Fenharrow had landed in the same place Adarlan had, back when the Fire-Bringer was staying in Mistward. Or that all of the Cadre was missing aside from Connall, who was somewhere in the palace, hopefully preparing for the long, hopeless fight ahead of you.

Of course, Rowan had been gone long before then, sadness lingering in your heart when you’d heard of his final departure from Doranelle. The last time you had seen the alpha was when he was sent to fetch the woman who would soon go by Aelin, and you missed him. You hadn’t even been able to see him as he was freed from the blood-oath, Maeve having sent you to your rooms while Aelin had been in the palace. Though with how useful that was when her fire had billowed through the city, you wished that you had been able to watch as that weight was lifted from his shoulders.

If only he were here, you might have some hope.

“I’m going to check on the armory,” you sighed, patting your mother on the shoulder.

“Don’t take long, child. I want you to be by my side for as long as possible,” she said with a wry smile.

You nodded in agreement, the train of your dress sweeping behind you. In a day’s time, you would abandon your finery for armor, and deplete your magic in the name of your people.

Somehow, despite your two centuries of life, you wished you had more time.

💚🤍💚🤍💚

A pulse of Maeve’s power pulled you from your bed in an instant, your dressing gown thrown on hastily and feet shoved into slippers, and you were gone.

You were out of breath by the time you reached the throne room, and shocked to see the male standing before you. Your mother, of course, was glaring at him, looking like she was ready to maim him at a moment’s notice.

“Rowan! What are you doing here?” you asked, surprise evident in your voice as you walked to stand beside the throne. Even from here, his scent of pine and snow and alpha washed over you, lulling your senses.

“I’ve come to offer aid on the behalf of Terrasen,” Rowan said, pine green eyes looking you over.

“At a price,” Maeve growled, fingernails tapping against stone. You raised a brow at Rowan, silently urging him to continue.

“Terrasen will save Doranelle from certain destruction, and in exchange, all My Queen and I ask for is a bride,” Rowan said, his eyes on you the entire time.

“A bride?” you asked incredulously. “What would you need a bride for?” Are you and Queen Terrasen that greedy?

“An omega bride.”

Oh.

Maeve hissed at him, and you felt her power readying itself to lash out. You placed a hand over hers, giving her a reassuring smile. “When King Terrasen arrived, he asked me for your hand. I do not approve of the match, though I can see no other way out of our predicament.” Violet eyes turned to meet yours, and the sorrow you saw in them was stronger than you’d ever seen before. “I am sorry, my child.”

So, you were to have the rest of your life sold in exchange for the continued existence of your people. You were to live in a foreign country for the rest of your days, kept as a broodmare for the Queen and King of Terrasen.

Even your deep-buried feelings for Rowan couldn’t erase the fact that he was buying you.

“My Queen is two hours travel from Fenharrow’s forces. If you formally accept our proposal, I will fly to meet her, and with our might we will destroy the enemy.” Those green eyes you knew so well turned to you once more. “So, Y/N?”

Of course he would want the final say to be your own, to act as though you had some sort of choice in this situation.

As if you could damn your people.

“I accept your proposal, King Terrasen,” you said with a sigh. “Now, save my people.”

Rowan gave you a tight nod before shifting, flying off into the night without preamble. With any luck, your people would be saved before the morning sun rose.

💚🩵🤍🩵💚

The air cleared within the day, the fires Fenharrow had set extinguished by the mighty Fire-Bringer, as well as the entirety of their army. Doranelle was saved, with you as the cost.

The day after, you dressed in one of your finest gowns, made of a shimmering pearl silk that flowed like water around you. Today, your bargain with the rulers of Terrasen was to be called in. Maeve could not save you. Rowan seemed disinclined to release you from your promise.

And you had yet to meet Aelin, your soon-to-be wife.

A husband and a wife. Both alphas, your mother had informed you last night, though you’d guessed that already with the specific request for an omega bride.

You could hardly believe that your life had taken such a drastic turn in the past week and a half - your lands nearly destroyed, your people almost wiped out, and now, you were promised to a royal couple. A sigh left you as you looked yourself in the mirror.

Rowan had arrived late last night and called upon you, letting you know the timeline of your new life. You were to be married the next afternoon, which was now only two hours away, and the next morning you and your spouses would travel to Wendlyn, where their royal armada was waiting to return to Terrasen, a new prize taken with them.

Truly, you’d thought Rowan would want you to be happy, what with your… history.

He had knotted you first, in your second heat. Lorcan had been next, but you’d always come back to Rowan, until he was mated to Lyria - though you’d heard that had been some sort of manipulation put upon him, and the Fire-Bringer was his true mate. And after he’d lost Lyria, you had been the one omega he would take comfort in during his ruts, even if your mother had tried to forbid you from being with him. While he had never been one for warm and fuzzy interactions, Rowan had seemed to care for you on a deeper level, always telling you to find a male worthy of yourself instead of staying with him.

Yet now, he had chosen to shackle you to him.

You paced around your room, waiting for a servant to fetch you for the ceremony. You knew better than to try and run; there was no way that you would jeopardize your people’s safety, and judging by Aelin’s last visit to the City of Rivers, your leaving would likely cause a massacre.

A knock sounded on your door, the noise stilling your feet.

“Hello, dear,” your mother said, entering the room and closing the door softly behind her. Maeve approached you, long fingers stroking over your cheek. “I know better than to expect forgiveness for my role in this, but I do hope you’ll return to visit when you can, my darling daughter.”

“Of course I will, mama,” you said, smiling sadly at her. “If I’m allowed to leave, that is.”

“Do whatever you can to convince them. Even if you have to bring that fire-breathing bitch with you,” Maeve said with a huff. “I do hope you find some happiness, at least with the family you will create. Children are such a blessing,” she sighed, stroking your hair as she pulled you into her arms.

“I do too. I’ll bring my little ones over if I can as well, I will want them to know their grandmother,” you said. a sad smile on your lips as you embraced her back.

“Good. I look forward to meeting them,” Maeve said as she pulled back. She cupped your cheek with one hand and looked you in the eyes. “Be careful around Aelin. She’s temperamental at best, insane at worst. And you know Rowan well enough,” she said with a hint of judgement. She’d never approved of your dalliances with her Cadre, though it had done little to stop you. “Take care of yourself.” Her voice was soft as she said the words, the first goodbye you’d ever had from her.

“I will, mama. And will you be-”

A knock sounded on your door, and a servant entered a moment later. “It is time, miss,” she said, beckoning you to her with a wave of her fingers. You sighed and stepped away from your mother.

The walk to the ceremonial hall inched by, each step feeling heavier than the last as you were led to your new fate. Your train trailed behind you the entire way, clinging to the stones you passed in an effort to stop the inevitable.

The hall had been decorated nicely, with flowers and vines decorating the walls and ceiling and floating balls of fae light dotting the air above your head. At the alter stood Rowan, and next to him a stunning, blonde haired woman with turquoise eyes ringed with gold. They were both dressed in finery in the green of Terrasen, and Rowan had even forgone his bandolier for the occasion.

Your heart stuttered against your will at the sight of them as you began walking down the aisle, and you did your best to not look nervous. You would not show your fears for your future, not to them.

Your feet halted once you were next to them, and the priestess in front of you started the ceremony. The words went in one ear and out the other as you scented both of them - jasmine and lemon verbena paired with pine and snow and the faintest scent of embers twining through had your knees weak without even looking at them. You just barely managed to hit your cues with your mind wrapped in their scents, and before you knew it Aelin was claiming your lips, then Rowan.

There was no cheer as the marriage was sealed, no happy crowd celebrating the exchange of their princess to another country. Aelin and Rowan each took a hand and led you from the hall, taking you to Rowan’s old rooms.

The night would begin early, it seemed.

Your nerves grew with each step towards that door, towards the bed that would forever be marked in your mind as the one your marriage was consummated on.

“Oh, calm down, Y/N,” Aelin said once you were in the room, the door shut behind you. “We have no intention of forcing you to bed us tonight.”

You blinked at her in confusion. “You don’t?”

Rowan shook his head, a smile on those lips you knew so well. You took a good look at him, eyes running down the tattoo on his face before settling on his lips, as much as you wished that they wouldn’t. “We would much rather consummate our marriage in Terrasen, after the ceremony we will have there. This ceremony was to keep Maeve from doing anything idiotic.”

“Oh.”

Aelin smirked at you, a devilish look in her eyes. “You almost sound disappointed, dear.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you shook your head. “No, I… I’m just surprised is all,” you said quietly. “What, ah, am I meant to do until we leave?”

“You will sleep in our bed. Until then, you should pack your belongings,” Rowan said as he turned away from you, moving to the desk that was still stored here.

“Don’t worry about taking all your clothes, I’m looking forward to taking you shopping in Orynth,” Aelin said with a smile so bright you could only believe that she was telling the truth. “We will also provide anything else you might need, such as nesting materials. Though if you have certain items you’re attached to, don’t hesitate to bring them. We want our pretty ‘mega to be happy, don’t we Ro?” Her words intensified your blush, furthered when Rowan turned to look at you and nodded, his pine green eyes looking over you appreciatively.

“I- I’ll be back tonight, then,” you said nervously, inching back to the door as if they might go back on their word. You slipped out of the room, shutting the door softly behind you, then let out a heavy breath.

Already, this marriage was turning out differently than you’d anticipated.

Packing didn’t take long when it was all you were focused on, all of your precious belongings tucked away first into a smaller bag that you could keep with you. The glass figure that Maeve had created for you when you turned ten, the shawl that Rowan had painstakingly made for you after the first time you’d been together, and a few other, small things would stay with you through the journey to your new home. Next came your nesting fabrics that you couldn’t bear to leave behind, even your favorite pillow made it into the trunk you packed them in. And finally, you picked through your clothes, finding your favorites and carefully folding each piece.

Still, the sun had yet to set.

If this had been a planned wedding, you would have been busy greeting the people and celebrating your union until dark. But that wasn’t your situation, and instead you drifted around the halls of the palace you’d been raised in, saying goodbye to each stone you passed over.

Eventually, night fell, and you found yourself back in front of Rowan’s old room. You could hear two heartbeats inside and the gentle hum of conversation, which stopped once you knocked on the door.

“Come in, dear,” Aelin’s voice said, and you opened the door.

Your heart nearly stopped at the sight of her in lacy negligée, the dark green color perfect against her tanned skin. She smirked at you, as if she could hear every filthy thought that flitted through your mind while you stared at her. You mentally shook yourself from your stupor, turning your eyes to a bare chested Rowan, which wasn’t much better for your heart.

“I, uhm… hi,” you said nervously, not sure of where to look or where to be.

Rowan rolled his eyes playfully, extending a hand for you to take. Tentatively, you took his hand in yours and let him lead you to the bathing room, where a nightgown was hung and waiting for you. His hands undid the laces of your dress, just as gentle as he’d been all those times before.

“I can do the rest,” you whispered, and he left the room silently, leaving you to prepare yourself for the night. Your dress slid off of you into a pool of silk around your feet. The nightgown that they’d left for you fit you perfectly, sage green silk hugging your body in all the right places, though you wished it was a bit longer. It was more modest than what Aelin was wearing, at least.

You did a few more things before exiting the room, finding that Rowan was already in bed, the blankets pulled up to cover half of his torso. Aelin was on top of the covers, her eyes turning to meet yours as soon as you were in sight.

“Come here, love,” Aelin said, patting the space between them. You moved forward nervously, trying to think of a way to get under the covers that wouldn’t have you crawling over one of them and wouldn’t make you look ridiculous. Reluctantly, you approached Aelin’s side of the bed, worrying your lip with your teeth. “Don’t be shy, I don’t bite. Usually,” Aelin added with a grin.

You let out a sigh and set one knee on the bed, then swung your other over Aelin’s form. You were straddling her for only a second, but heat still shot through your core at the contact, and then you were off of her and laying on the covers between the two of them.

Which didn’t help.

You shimmied beneath the blankets, laying down completely. Aelin let out a giggle when she saw your flushed cheeks, then picked up a book and began to read.

Rowan slid down further so that he was beneath the covers with you, a strong arm banding over your waist. Your breath hitched at the contact.

You closed your eyes, desperate for this night to be over as soon as possible, and sleep would make it pass by more quickly. The sound of Rowan’s breathing in your ear and the occasional flick of a page turning slowly lulled you to sleep, only woken for a moment when Aelin slid under the covers. Your husband and wife caged you between them, holding you as you fell asleep in their arms for the first time.

💚🩵🤍🩵💚

It wasn’t immediate, but they noticed—of course they noticed. The Cadre was perceptive, predators honed by centuries of battle. You were not as skilled at hiding as you wanted to believe.

Rowan was the first to press you on it. He wasn’t unkind, but his sharp green eyes pinned you in place after he cornered you in the living room. “You’re avoiding us.”

“What?” you asked, feigning confusion.

Before Rowan could respond the others walked into the room, settling themselves on the couches. Lorcan sat next to Rowan, and Fenrys and Gavriel sat on either side of you.

Lorcan’s arms were crossed, dark brows drawn low as he glowered. “You’ve been distant.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath, trying to school your features to hide what you truly felt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gavriel’s gaze was softer but no less intense. “Don’t lie to us. Tell us what’s going on, love.”

Fenrys didn’t say anything at first. He just moved his hand to your thigh, swiping his thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. Breaking down your defenses.

You swallowed hard, hands curling into fists. “I—” You hesitated, blood whooshing in your ears. “I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

Rowan’s jaw tightened. “What do you mean?”

Your breath came uneven. “I can’t pick.” The words tumbled out, raw and painful. “I can’t pick just one of you to love. Because I love all of you. And I know it’s selfish and wrong, and I know it’ll hurt to have to choose, but I—” Your voice cracked, eyes burning. “I don’t know how to live with breaking my own heart, let alone yours.”

Fenrys laughed. It wasn’t cruel, wasn’t mocking. It was relieved. You blinked at him as he grinned. “Is that what’s been tearing you up inside?”

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Rowan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You fool.”

Lorcan’s scowl had softened just a fraction. “You think we’d make you choose?”

You blinked. “You—what?”

Gavriel scooted closer to you on the couch, taking one of your hands in his. “Do you truly think we haven’t spoken about this?” His tawny eyes gleamed with humor. “That we haven’t noticed how you look at all of us? How we look at you?”

The room felt too small, your chest too tight. “But—you can’t be serious.”

Rowan huffed. “We are.”

Fenrys leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’ve been waiting for you to catch up, sweetheart.”

Your brain stalled. They had… talked about this?

Rowan, so reserved. Lorcan, who barely tolerated most people. Gavriel, the most level-headed of them all. And Fenrys, wild and untamed. They had spoken about loving you, about sharing you, and they were fine with it?

You opened your mouth to say something else but all that came out was a strangled sound.

Fenrys grinned. “We broke her.”

Gavriel chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Breathe, lioness”

Your heart thundered. “You’re all okay with this? Really?”

Rowan’s gaze softened. “We are.”

Lorcan’s voice was rough but sure. “We’ve always shared a bond. You were just the missing piece.”

Fenrys tilted his head. “So tell us, sweetheart—why choose?”

You exhaled shakily, warmth flooding your chest.

“Come here,” Gavriel murmured, opening his arms.

You crawled into his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. His large, calloused hands came up to cradle your head and rub your back.

“There’s no need to stress yourself out so much, love. We have all been together for so long. Through war and through arguments. But most importantly, we trust each other. To respect each other, to love and take care of you,” Gavriel said.

You wiped at the tears trailing down your cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, honey,” Fenrys said sympathetically. He moved closer to you and Gavriel on the couch, taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it. “We’re sure. I hate seeing you so upset.”

Rowan moved from his seat to crouch in front of you. “You don’t need to worry about the logistics of it. You let us take care of that. Take care of you, you understand?”

You nodded. “Okay,” you whispered.

💚🩵🤍🩵💚

Aelin paced around the room, her mind running a mile a minute with her worries.

Over you.

Rowan was in a similar state, out flying around Orynth to relieve some of his nervous energy and possibly spot you in the streets.

You’d been distant with them for weeks, sneaking off gods knows where, without so much as an explanation, and it was driving both of them mad. And you would return in the mid-afternoon, smiling and happy and not at all noticing how your behavior had begun affecting your partners.

The flap of wings was all the warning she had before Rowan appeared before her in a flash of light, a pinched look on his face.

“I found her just as she walked into the castle,” Rowan huffed, sitting in a chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t think she’s…”

Anger flared in Aelin’s chest at his implication. “She would never hurt us that way, Ro. Not when she knows just how much it hurts.” She thought back to how distraught you’d been when your last lover had cheated on you repeatedly years ago, how you had vowed to never cheat on them at the ceremony all three of you had gone through, as close to marriage as Terrasen law would allow. No, you would never inflict that pain on someone else.

“I know. She has been out an awful lot lately, though…” he trailed off, green eyes swirling with concern.

Aelin bit her lip for a moment before responding, “She wouldn’t… But that still leaves the question of where and what she’s-” The soft sounds of your footsteps had her mouth snapping shut, and she perched on the arm of Rowan’s chair, looking the picture of nonchalance.

The door to their bedroom swung open, revealing you, smiling and rosy cheeked. “Hello, loves,” you said in greeting, making your way over to claim a kiss from both of them. “I’m going to take a bath, it’s hot outside.” You fanned a hand in front of your face, then shot them a look that promised you were up to no good. “You can join me if you like,” you said with a giggled before running into the bathing room.

Aelin and Rowan shared a look, silently agreeing that their questions could wait one more day, then followed after you.

--

You were just about ready to kick your feet in excitement, hands flying through the last few rows of the blanket you’d painstakingly worked on over the last five weeks.

Your mentor, Alisha, sat across from you, her eyes flicking up from her own project every few minutes to monitor your progress. “I think you might finish today,” she chuckled, and you flashed her a smile as your fingers picked up the speed.

When you’d happened across her store all those weeks ago, you hadn’t at all intended to spend so much time here. But Alisha was so welcoming and kind, and you’d found peace in her store.

With Aelin and Rowan, something was always happening or needed attending to, not that you minded that at all. But every couple of days it was nice to come here and create. There was nothing to worry about but the way the yarn went over your hook, and whether you were following the pattern Alisha had helped you draw up.

You wanted to bring them here, at some point. But for now, it was your special place.

The blanket you had made was stunning, if you had to describe it. One half was made of dazzling flames, and the other a blanket of snow with added, darker blue snowflakes drifting over it, and in the middle they met as water. The pattern had whipped your ass at multiple points, your skill level still lower than you truly needed it to be, but you could always make more.

Already you had a few sweaters to give to your partners, waiting to be carried back to the castle once you finish the blanket.

“I hope they like it,” you sighed happily. You truly felt as if your love had been poured into the projects you’d made for both Aelin and Rowan, and their approval would only make your prouder of how they’d turned out.

“I’m sure that they will, dear. From what you’ve told me, they love everything that you do,” Alisha said with a smile.

You returned the expression, hoping that she was right.

Once you finished the final stitch, you tied off the blanket and began weaving in the ends, something that always took longer than you expected. As it was, the blanket would cover the large bed that you shared with Rowan and Aelin, though you knew no matter how it was used you would be pleased as a peach.

“Thank you, Alisha. I’ll probably be back before the end of the week,” you said as you packed up your creations into two large canvas bags, then hoisted them onto your shoulders.

“I look forward to your next visit, dear. Maybe for your next project you can try to make something new!”

“That would be nice! I’ll see you soon,” you said cheerfully as you left her shop and began the long walk back to the castle. Orynth was burning hot this summer, but that hadn’t deterred you at all in making a huge blanket. Though maybe you should have thought more about it first…

You saw a white-tailed hawk following you in the sky as you walked the last few minutes to the castle gates, which made you giggle. Even in the city, Rowan couldn’t stop being a buzzard, as Aelin would say.

The walk up the Queen’s tower was much worse than usual with however many extra pounds you were carrying on each shoulder, but you made it up just fine. You opened the door to the room you all shared, surprised to see Rowan and Aelin both in the bedroom, just as they were yesterday.

“Hi,” you grinned, plopping the bags onto the ground.

“You’re leaving us, aren’t you,” Aelin said mournfully, tears already welling in those stunning turquoise and gold eyes.

The question caught you off guard, hitting you like a punch to the gut. “What?”

“You sneak off for weeks, never telling us where you’re going, and now you come home with your bags packed,” Rowan choked out as he paced the room, the most emotional you’d heard him aside from your not-quite-marriage ceremony.

Still, you blinked at them in confusion. “I… I brought gifts. I wouldn’t- have you been thinking I want to leave you?” you asked tearfully, hurt that they would think such a thing of you. That you were flighty and untrustworthy.

“Yes!” Aelin shouted, tiny fires lit in her palms. “You’ve been distant and sneaking off, what else were we supposed to think?!”

“Maybe that I was learning to crochet?”

“You- what?” Rowan asked, stopping in his tracks.

You unclasped one of the bags, pulling the larger-than-you blanket from its confines. You peeked over the top of it, waiting for their reactions. “Well? Say something!” you demanded once they were quiet for over a minute, likely talking through their bond.

“It- It’s beautiful, Y/N,” Aelin managed to get out before she was tackling you to the floor, peppering your face with kisses.

“So you were just crocheting? For all those hours?” Rowan asked, but with the way he said it you knew he was talking to himself more than you. “Thank the gods,” he sighed, then kneeled beside you where you’d been pinned to the ground by Aelin and her lips. He pressed his own to yours once, before you were reclaimed by Aelin.

Once their emotions had calmed and you were all snuggled under the blanket together, even in the summer heat, you realized you needed to say something. “You know… Instead of worrying that I’m out planning to leave you, or whatever, just talk to me. I was keeping this a secret until now, but I would have told you if I’d known how much you were both suffering.”

“I suppose, in the future… I can try that,” Aelin agreed begrudgingly. Rowan grunted in agreement, preferring to place his lips to yours once more.

“As long as we all agree on that,” you giggled. “Now, up! I have a few more things to give you, though you might not want to wear them until winter rolls around…”

“Oo, I do love presents.” Aelin clapped her hands together, much more enthusiastic now that her worries had been resolved.

You shook your head at her in amusement before standing, ready to show off the rest of your creations.

💚🩵🤍🩵💚

They never told you outright, but the clues had stacked. Their nightly wanderings. The way they could see and hear so much better than you. The hushed whispers you heard when they thought you slept.

And then, one night Rowan returned injured. Blood soaked his tunic, his skin torn and revealing a gaping wound. Aelin was frantic, pacing, snapping at him, her hands trembling as she tried to help.

Your voice broke through their storm, your offer soft but certain. “Drink from me.”

Aelin had frozen. Rowan’s jaw clenched.

“You don’t understand what you’re offering,” he growled.

“I do,” you whispered. “Let me help you.”

He looked to Aelin, and at her hesitant nod, he stepped forward. His eyes burned with hunger and worry. When he leaned in, his breath tickled your neck. Warm and intimate.

“Tell me to stop,” he said.

You didn’t.

His fangs sank in slowly, deliberately. Pain sparked, sharp and fleeting, then heat bloomed like wildfire in your veins. A shudder wracked your body, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his mouth moved against your skin, his tongue teasing at the bite. It was electric and intoxicating. The way his body pressed to yours, the low, hungry sound in his throat.

When his fangs released you, Rowan moved to kiss your collarbone, his lips brushing reverently before they parted. When his teeth pierced your skin again on the other side of your neck, a moan escaped you. His hands around your waist tightened, grounding you.

With his arms around you, his lips at your throat, and his heart beating in perfect time with yours, you thought you might die from ecstasy.

But then he pulled away, one hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. You understood why once he did it, you were dizzy, the world spinning around you as you nearly lost your balance.

“Easy,” he murmured.

He ushered you to the seat Aelin had pulled out, guiding you to sit down and your hands gripped the armrests.

Aelin rushed over with a glass of juice and a pack of cookies, placing them on your lap and the glass in your hands. “Here, it’ll help you feel better.”

You drank the juice greedily, your swallowing audible until you finished the glass. You picked up a cookie and took a bite, humming as the flavor reached your tongue. Chocolate chip. Simple. Delectable.

Rowan crouched down in front of you, resting his large hands on your knees. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” you mumbled around the cookie in your mouth. You raised your hand to cover it, remembering your manners, and Aelin laughed.

“I think she’ll live, buzzard.”

He glared at her over his shoulder before returning his gaze to you. “I suppose we should talk about this…new development.”

A quick glance at his chest, where there was once a cut as wide as two of your fingers, told you that you were right. He was healed. By your blood.

You placed the pack of cookies on the table next to you. “What’s there to talk about?”

Aelin and Rowan glanced at each other. “Does blood loss usually cause memory loss too?” Aelin whispered.

“I don’t believe so,” he whispered back.

“I can hear you, you know,” you grouched.

Their heads whipped back to you. “I know what you are. It’s okay,” you said.

Aelin approached slowly from behind Rowan, resting her hands on his shoulders as she tilted her head at you. “What are we?”

You swallowed. “Vampires. You’re vampires.”

Rowan just watched you with that ice-cold face of his, his jaw ticking.

Aelin smiled, showing her fangs. “I told you she was smart, our little human.”

After that night, they had been more open with you. Telling you they were going out to feed instead of making up some excuse for why one of them needed to leave the house as soon as the sun went down. Aelin had fed from you eventually, but neither of them liked to do it often. They worried about how it made you feel, what it could do to their fragile human. They plan to keep you around as long as possible, Aelin had told you.

Tonight was one of the rare nights you went out with them. You felt bad that someone always had to stay home hungry with you until it was their turn to hunt, so you offered to go out to a tavern where they could more quickly change shifts from watching over you to finding their meal.

The tavern was loud and smoky, lit with the golden flicker of torchlight and filled with the scent of spiced wine and woodsmoke. You’d only stepped away from your booth for a moment—to get more drinks for Aelin and Rowan, who lounged like predators watching the room from the shadows. Their eyes never left you, not even to scour for their next victim.

A man at the bar leaned in close before you could even speak to the barkeep. Too close. His smile was cocky, his eyes raking over you like you were prey.

“You here alone, sweetheart?” he asked.

You took a step back. “Not at all.”

“Don’t see anyone beside you.” His gaze dropped to your throat. “Pretty mark you’ve got there. Someone bite too hard, or were you begging for it?”

Before you could reply, Rowan was there.

His hand was a vice on the man’s shoulder. “That mark,” Rowan said, voice low and deadly, “is mine.”

The man started to stammer but froze when Aelin slid in from the other side.

She didn’t speak at first, just tilted her head, golden hair falling over one shoulder. “Do you want to know what I do to men who talk to our girl like that?”

The man stammered again, trying to tug free from Rowan’s iron grip.

“I could remove his tongue,” Aelin said thoughtfully, examining her nails. “Or maybe you want to do it, buzzard?”

Rowan’s smile was all teeth. “Tempting.”

Your hand touched his arm, the tension in his muscles vibrating under your palm.

“Enough,” you murmured. “He’s not worth it.”

They didn’t take their eyes off him as he fled, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Aelin turned to you first, her fingers brushing the side of your face, gentle now. “He shouldn’t have looked at you like that.”

“He didn’t touch me,” you whispered.

“He thought about it,” Rowan said, pulling you into his chest.

“And thinking about touching what’s ours is enough,” Aelin purred, kissing your neck right beside the old mark, tongue brushing over the scar.

You shivered.

Rowan leaned in, breath hot on your skin. “You’re ours, little bird. No one else’s.”

And later that night, when you all returned to the house after Aelin cornered that sleazy man in the alley behind the tavern, their hands roamed over you. Their tongues teased and licked, and then their fangs sank into your neck—together this time.

When Dorian spoke to you for the first time, it was after you had mistakenly interrupted him while he was looking for a particular scroll. He’d caught you mid-sentence, stammering apologies, and he’d laughed.

“I didn’t mean to make you nervous, Miss…” he’d paused. “What should I call you?”

The question was simple, but you saw the flicker of kindness in his eyes, the warmth that set him apart from the cold nobility that surrounded him.

You told him your name and he repeated it softly, like he was testing the way it rolled off his tongue. The connection was instant, almost magical in the way he looked at you. Like you were the only person in the room.

It wasn’t long before he returned to the library to see you more often, for reasons that had little to do with the scrolls you were cataloging. Soon enough, the friendship between you both blossomed into something more. He was different with you. Free and unburdened by the weight of the crown. You saw the man he could be when he wasn’t just a prince.

He was the first to admit his feelings, his gaze intense and sincere as he confessed. “I’ve never met anyone like you, someone who sees me, not just the crown.”

You’d fallen hard, as anyone would, and yet it wasn’t just the man behind the title that made your heart race. It was the way he made you feel seen, heard. And it wasn’t just his smile that captivated you—it was his heart.

It was during the lead-up to the war, when Rowan Whitethorn was helping Dorian escape the castle that things became more serious. He refused to leave without you. The three of you had crammed onto that tiny boat and sailed away. And when everyone split up again, he took you with him on his quest.

That’s when you first met Manon Blackbeak. She and her clan of Blackbeak witches, the Thirteen, she’d called them.

Manon was a warrior and a force of nature. Her golden eyes burned with a fire. Her cold exterior, her sharp tongue, and the way she commanded respect without a single word intrigued you.

While Dorian was sneaking into Morath she watched over you. When you first spoke to her, you were wary, unsure if she’d even give you the time of day. But what surprised you was her quiet curiosity about you. She wasn’t like the others. She didn’t play games or hide her true feelings. Manon was honest, often brutally so.

“The princeling sees something in you,” she remarked one night by the fire. “And I think I’m starting to see it too.”

You had laughed at that, a little nervous but touched by the fact she was even interested in you. It was her unexpected warmth beneath her cold, unyielding shell that made your heart flutter.

With every passing day, you learned more about her. How she was bound to her clan, through loyalty and blood. She told you about the cruelty of her grandmother. About the sister she had killed without knowing who she really was.

You had told her about yourself in turn. How your parents had died of illness, and how you met Dorian in the castle library. That it was thanks to him you were even alive after the explosion at the castle. Now you were just following him and seeing where the path took you.

It wasn’t long before your heart was pulled between them, but not in the way you thought it would be. It was never a competition. It was never about choosing. Dorian and Manon saw each other and understood each other in ways that no one else could. They might have been from different worlds—Dorian born with his crown, and Manon fighting iron tooth and nail for hers—but they were more alike than either of them ever realized.

In the months that followed, you saw their bond form. It wasn’t easy. It was difficult. Full of misunderstandings and old habits that couldn’t just be broken overnight. But somehow, despite everything, the three of you found balance. You became a unit, a partnership.

The three of you sat together now on a couch in your shared chambers, each of you with your own drink, the sun beginning to set. Dorian’s hand rested on yours, and Manon leaned into your side, her head on your shoulder. You were married to both of them now, and the world didn’t seem so big anymore. It seemed manageable, because with them, you had everything you could ever need.

It had been years since you first met, since you first kissed them, since you first decided you would be more than just the sum of your parts. You’d grown together, in love, in strength, in grief. There were still challenges to face, still days when it felt like the weight of the world would crush you, but as long as you had Dorian and Manon by your side, you knew you could face anything.

“Do you ever wonder,” Dorian asked suddenly, his voice gentle, “how we ended up here?”

Manon snorted. “I remember quite well how we ended up here, princeling. You barged into my camp shaped like a woman.”

You muffled a laugh with your free hand, but Dorian just smiled. “I didn’t hear any complaints from you, witchling.”

They shared some more jabs, bickering like an old married couple as they always did. All you could do was smile, looking between them both. You never expected to find love like this, not with one person, let alone two. But here, in this moment, you knew it was everything you needed. A family. A love without limits.

You leaned in and kissed Dorian first, then Manon, your heart swelling with everything that they were, everything you had become together.

“I love you both so much,” you whispered.

Manon’s voice was low, but there was a soft chuckle beneath it. “We love you too, darling.”

Dorian raised his glass. “From now until the darkness claims us.”