#shacmc

A weekend getaway was the perfect opportunity. 

He only had a moment of silence, though, because his friends soon trailed in after and they were not as quiet and serene as Azriel himself.

“This place is fucking huge!” Cassian yelled, his voice echoing throughout the grand room. Nesta followed him, eyes rolling, her hand in his. 

“Three days in this place,” Rhysand said, sighing as he entered. 

“It would be better if it was just Em and me, but I suppose it’s still going to be fun,” Mor chimed, giving Azriel a wink as she passed him.

“Let’s get unpacked and make a trip into town for groceries,” Feyre said, dropping her purse onto the counter and heading back out to the car to get her art bag. 

“And booze,” Cassian said, following to grab he and Nesta’s bags. “Can’t forget the booze.”

Azriel’s dropped his bag by the door and went back out to see what he could help unload. He nearly ran into Elain on the porch.

“Let me get that for you,” he said, taking her duffel bag from her.

“What a gentleman,” she sighed dramatically, her hand over her chest.

He rolled his eyes and carried it inside before making a couple more trips and then found himself in the grand room where Elain, Nesta and Feyre were whispering frantically. He raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the counter by Rhysand. “What’s happening there?”

“There aren’t enough beds,” he replied, simply.

With a shrug, Azriel said, “We knew that when we booked this place. Elain is taking the last bed and I’m taking the couch.”

Rhys took a swig from his beer. “There is no couch.”

Azriel blinked and looked around. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it, but…there wasn’t. Those closest thing was an ancient loveseat Mor and Emerie were sitting on and there was no way he was fitting on that thing.

Elain caught his eye with a wince. “I guess it’s a good thing Gwyn got invited to speak at that conference in Cesere, or you’d be sleeping on the floor.”

He blinked again. “What?”

Rhysand chuckled. “Follow along, Az.”

The realization hit him the moment he saw Elain’s cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “You want me to share a bed with Lainy?”

Rhysand grinned and walked away, only for Azriel to realize that his tone had made that sentence sound like an insult.

“Not that that's a bad thing,” he followed, quickly.

Elain’s cheeks turned brighter, if that was even possible. 

“I can sleep on the floor,” Azriel continued, when she said nothing. “Or, the…chair, thing.”

Elain looked at where Mor sat with Emerie on her lap. They barely fit on the little piece of furniture. 

“You’re not sleeping on that,” Elain said, at last, her voice quiet. “And the entire cabin has hardwood floors. You…can sleep with me.”

Azriel nodded, all the while thinking that this “mix up” had been intentional. Rhysand’s grin had been telling enough, but Feyre had been trying to play matchmaker between him and Elain for years. She probably sorted out the whole ordeal the second they found out that Elain no longer had a roommate for the weekend. 

He wondered if there was a couch stashed somewhere in their room, just to make sure this happened.

“It’ll be just like when we had sleepovers when we were little,” Elain added when he picked his bag up and set it by the door to the room.

Their room.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share a room with Elain. It was that he did, far more than he should. He’d been in love with his best friend for longer than he could remember. He didn’t remember a time where he didn’t love Elain. But she had no idea and she never would.

Rhys, Feyre and Cassian decided to go to the store, while Elain, Nesta, Emerie, Mor and Azriel stayed behind. Within minutes, Mor and Emerie were making their way out to the hot tub, Nesta joining them. Which left Elain and Azriel in the living room.

“I’ll warn you,” she said, opening the cooler they’d brought from Velaris and pulling out two beers. “I'm a blanket hog.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, taking one from her outstretched hand. “That’s not good, then, because so am I.”

“Looks like we’ll need to find another blanket, then,” she smiled, that blush still staining her cheeks as she clinked her bottle against his. “Should we…join the others in the hot tub?”

Azriel nodded and when they both made a move for the bedroom, Azriel rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll just…get my shorts out of my bag and change in the bathroom.”

Elain cleared her throat as she nodded. 

He did just that, and when his shorts were on, he went out onto the back porch and sank into the hot tub with Mor, Emerie, and Nesta. 

The second he made himself comfortable, the sliding door opened again and Elain appeared in a little lavender bikini. Azriel’s mouth went dry and he tried his best to look away but he couldn’t. The second Elain’s eyes met his, Aziel’s jaw locked. Her eyes remained on his as she set down her towel and got in, opposite of him. 

“Az!”

Azriel’s eyes snapped to Mor. It obviously hadn’t been the first time she had said his name. “Hmm?”

“I asked if you minded being a gentleman and going in and grabbing us each a beer, too,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him.

He cleared his throat and looked at where Elain sat, her own beer pressed to her lips. He stood quickly, getting out. “Yeah, of course, I’ll be right back.”

He wrapped his towel waist and walked back into the kitchen. Rather than grab a few bottles, he grabbed the entire cooler, knowing Cassian would make sure the alcohol they were buying now would end up in the fridge anyways. Shouldering open the door, he found Nesta and Elain talking quietly, while Mor was swigging from a flask. They immediately hushed and looked at him, even as he set the cooler down and eyed Mor. “You needed a drink, huh?”

“I needed a beer,” she specified, taking one from him, as did Emerie and Nesta. “I never said I didn’t have a drink.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, grabbing fresh drinks for himself and Elain before taking his seat again, across from her. “What were you two talking about?” He asked, looking between Elain and her sister.

“The four orgasms your brother gave me last night,” Nesta grinned, opening her beer.

Elain choked on her beer, letting Azriel know that they certainly hadn’t been talking about that which made his curiosity grow. He gave Nesta a blank look. “Sorry I asked.”

Mor laughed quietly as Emerie put her arm around her. Elain was still trying to catch her breath, trying not to choke, blaming it on the beer going down the wrong pipe. 

The others returned from the grocery store and Feyre and Rhysand began cooking up a meal that was way too big for the lot of them. Once they’d eaten, they found themselves in the hot tub again, this time all of them trying to fit. Azriel was practically sitting on Cassian’s lap at one point, and once Cassian was drunk enough to become handsy, he excused himself. 

“Done snuggling?” Cassian grinned as Nesta climbed onto his lap with her newly filled drink. 

“Only to go clean up the kitchen,” Azriel announced, nudging Cassian in the head as he passed. “Feyre and Rhys did enough. It’s the least I can do.”

Azriel was almost to the door when Elain said, “I’ll help!”

The water sloshed and she rose, beads running down her body before she wrapped it up in her towel.

He swallowed, nodding and holding the door open for her. The headed for the kitchen, both sides full of dirty pots and pans, the counter lined with plates and silverware from their family meal.

“I’ll be right there,” she said, pausing as they passed their room. “I’m gonna change real quick.”

“You’re not getting back in?” He wanted to see that lavender bikini again…

“Too cramped,” she replied, scrunching her nose. “Wanna turn on a movie instead?”

So much for the bikini, but she did have a point about it the hot tub being a bit full.

One by one, they changed, before meeting in front of the sink.

“You wash, I’ll dry?” She asked, handing him the sponge.

Those hazel eyes narrowed, but he turned the hot water on. “Seems like I got the raw end of the deal, but sure.”

“What movie do you want to watch?” She asked, taking the pot he’d just finished rinsing bubbles out of.

He didn’t hesitate. “Something scary,” he grinned, even as Elain’s face blanched.

“You know I hate scary movies,” she groaned, wiping down plate after plate.

“We’re in a cabin, in the middle of the mountains,” he defended. “There’s never a better chance than now.”

“This sounds like the worst time possible!” she laughed, shaking her head as she put the dry dishes into the cabinet. 

“You asked what I wanted to watch, that’s what I want to watch,” he said, washing the last pot and drying it himself. His voice was light and Elain’s little smile only made him want to keep the gag going longer. “I promise not to let anyone get you tonight.” Since we’re sleeping in the same bed.

Elain must have thought the same thing because her cheeks were heating, once again. “Fine. One scary movie, but we’re watching something funny afterwards.”

“Deal,” Azriel said, smiling as he turned off the faucet and helped her put the clean dishes away. 

They went into their room and opened Azriel’s laptop on the bed. Opening one of the many streaming services, he scrolled through his options until he found one he liked and selected it as he grinned. 

“Friday the 13th,” Elain said, looking at the date on her phone. “Ha ha.”

“It’s practically a holiday,” he said, settling back against the pillows. “Only comes around a couple times a year, we might as well celebrate.”

She muttered something that sounded like Doesn’t seem like celebrating to me, but tucked her legs underneath herself and leaned back against her own pillows. Her arm leaned against his.

He pressed play.

To his surprise, she lasted a good half hour into the movie before starting to hide behind her pillow. Azriel pretended not to notice the way her knee fell against his, tried not to notice how when she jumped, she jumped towards him. 

“How pissed would you get,” Azriel began, quietly, as tense music began playing through the speakers, “if I scared the shit out of you in the middle of the night, just for giggles.” 

Elain slowly looked over at him from behind her pillow. “Try it and find out.”

Azriel’s brow rose and he grinned. Something in her tone had his stomach doing strange, familiar things. “Are you trying to be intimidating?” 

“Is it working?” she asked, the screen still blocked from her vision. 

Azriel pretended to think about it for a minute before saying, “No. Not at all.”

A scream sounded from the movie and Elain yelped, throwing her arms around Azriel. He caught her with an oomph as she buried her face into his chest. 

“I hate you,” she said, her words muffled against his shirt. “I hate you for making me watch this horrible movie.” 

He laughed softly, rubbing up and down her arm. “You’ll live. A little adrenaline is good for the body.”

“A little is one thing,” she said, her arms wrapping tighter around his neck as the wet sound of someone being stabbed came through the speakers. “My heart is about to beat out of my chest.”

Indeed, he could feel her frantic heartbeat, they were pressed so closely together. He could smell the vanilla and elderberry scent of her shampoo where her head was tucked beneath his chin.

With his other hand, he gently rubbed her back. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you if anyone tries to come get you.”

She pulled back, just a bit, so she could look him in the eye. “You better.”

Another scream rang out from the movie and Elain jumped just as bad as she did the first time. Azriel only chuckled and continued to rub her back. After a minute, he felt Elain’s head turn toward the movie again.

But she didn’t act like she had any intention of moving from where she was curled up in his lap. The laughter of their friends out in the hot tub still carried in to them, and Azriel knew both Cassian and Mor were drunk beyond reason. But no one had come to check on them after they’d gone inside to wash dishes.

He assumed that was Feyre’s doing.

After a particularly gruesome death where a woman took an ax to the face, she asked in a small voice, “How many more deaths?”

He glanced down at her and thought for a minute. “Four. Including the bad guy.”

She nodded. “And then we can watch something sweet?”

“Something sweet?” Azriel raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said something funny.”

“Well this movie has traumatized me and now I want to watch something romantic.”

“Romantic?” he repeated. “I don’t know about that.”

“No, no,” Elain said, fighting back. “You picked this mess, I pick the next one. Those were the rules.”

“Since when?”

“Since now, when I made up the rules.”

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Alright, fine. What romantic nonsense are you forcing onto me?”

“Oh, 13 Going on 30, not even a debate,” Elain said.

It was her favorite. He knew it was her favorite. He knew it was the movie that she was going to suggest, which is why Azriel had his eye roll ready to go.

Once the movie ended, he found hers and pressed play. She was instantly perkier, instantly invested in the laptop. 

Meanwhile, Azriel was leaning back against his pillows, yawning. “Wake me up when it’s over.”

“Oh no,” she said, chuckling. “I watched yours, you’re watching mine.”

“You spent half the movie behind your pillow,” he argued.

“You may do the same for this movie if you feel so inclined,” she jabbed. “But, you’ll miss the best parts.”

“Anthony Serkis dancing to Thriller is the best part,” he replied, leaning back, arm stretched out across the back of the pillows. “Wake me up when that scene comes on.”

Elain poked him in the side which made him jump, which made her giggle. 

“Eyes open or I’ll do it again,” she warned, and settled back into the pillows.

They were close.

It wasn’t unusual. They’d known each other for twenty years at this point and had been best friends for the majority of it. Throughout that friendship, there had been a thousand movies watched and their bodies had grazed one another’s. No, it wasn’t unusual, but every time Azriel’s skin grazed hers it still sent an electric buzz throughout his entire body. 

He never showed it, though, never gave any indication that he felt a damn thing when his skin touched hers. He wondered if she felt something similar or if she had ever had a thought like the many of his that ran through his mind. 

Surely, she hadn’t.

If she had, their friendship would be very different. Shit, it wouldn’t even be a friendship. It would be something more, something greater, something real that would have come out of Azriel’s wildest dreams. 

He looked over at her. She was fully engrossed in the movie, not even aware of his inward thoughts. 

Maybe it was that fourth beer, even though he felt none of the alcohol’s effects by the point, but he let his arm drape across her shoulders, just to see what she’d do. And at first, she did nothing. Azriel nearly muttered an apology and a fake excuse about reaching around her for something I’m the night stand…

But then she scooted closer, infinitesimally, settling against him. Into him.

His fingers began drawing shapes on her bare shoulder, the sleeve of her cardigan having fallen down. The tank top she wore beneath showed off the beginnings of a tan that he knew would be golden in the summer from working in her garden any spare daylight she had. And likely some nights, depending on what shift she’d be working at the hospital.

Slowly, as if she didn’t want him to notice what she was doing, she laid her head in the crook of his neck.

It was a wonder he was still breathing.

The door from the balcony slammed and they jumped apart, Mor’s bright laughter suddenly much louder than it’d been before.

“Are they in their room?” A voice tried to whisper from right outside their door.

Tried, but failed, because it was Feyre and it sounded as if she’d made good on her promise to drink the entire bottle of wine she’d bought at the store.

“I think so, but I think they’re asleep, so we should go to bed.” Rhys was, once again, the voice of reason.

The door knob jiggled and both Elain and Azriel held their breath. Thank God he’d thought to lock it, figuring Cassian would try to play some prank in the middle of the night.

They heard a very unladylike snort. “The door is locked. They’re not sleeping, they did what we’re about to go do—”

There was a scream and then Rhys’s voice was fading as he spoke, getting quieter with every word, as if he’d tossed Feyre over his shoulder and headed for the stairs leading to the rest of the bedrooms.

The movie continued to play, but neither of them spoke in the silence. Azriel felt Elain’s eyes on him after a moment, and he turned towards her. Gazed into those warm, caramel eyes. But her eyes weren’t on his.

She was looking at his mouth.

To hell with it.

Azriel leaned down and brushed the softest of kisses to her lips.

At first, she didn’t react but perhaps it was just the shock of it all because her lips met his as her hand rested idly on his thigh.

The kiss was soft, sweet, gentle. Yet, it was earth shattering. He felt that kiss in every inch of his body, he felt alive for the first time in a long, long time.

When the kiss broke, Azriel only backed up an inch and they stared at one another.

When Elain didn’t say anything, Azriel whispered, “Sorry.”

“Why?” she breathed. “I’ve been…waiting for you to do that for a long time.”

Azriel’s breathing hitched. “How long?”

“Long enough,” she promised, and kissed him again. Her soft, gentle hands ran through his hair as Azriel’s arms went around her. That kiss deepened and Azriel couldn’t form a single thought.

His entire world was changing before his eyes, but he couldn’t focus on that, couldn’t focus on a thing. He’d spent many nights dreaming about this, and here it was: he was kissing Elain Archeron. 

If this was all he got, thank the Mother, but he would take advantage of the opportunity he’d been given. His lips left hers and she next felt them on her neck, followed by the barest hint of teeth. Her head tipped back, giving him better access, and a quiet moan slipped out as his lips found that glorious spot where her neck met her shoulder. She melted into him as he explored that spot, what she did when he kissed, licked, sucked, tasted.

Her hand was still on his leg and she squeezed lightly as his mouth worshipped her neck. He paused for a moment, her hand much higher on his thigh that he’d realized. If she even scarcely moved her hand up, her fingers would brush against him, his body would let her know just how much this was affecting him. But as he let his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot, she didn’t timidly shift her fingers up a bit. No, Elain brazenly reached out and cupped Azriel through his sweatpants.

He hissed onto her skin, all the while relishing in the feel of her fingers around him. 

She seemed to find satisfaction over this, over his sounds, over the way his body tensed and quickly relaxed. She smiled, Azriel feeling the gesture against his own lips. After she gave him a gentle squeeze, Azriel was pulling her by her hips until she was planted in his lap, straddling his waist. One arm was instantly around her, the other holding the back of her head as he kissed her. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, every hesitant inch of him that he held back all these years finally being able to let go. 

The second her body made contact with his, she rocked her hips and Azriel swore against her lips. 

“Too much?” she breathed. As she pulled back, he could see how flushed her cheeks were, even though the only light came from his laptop. 

Azriel couldn’t help but quietly laugh. For her to think that this was too much… “No. Not at all.”

This time when he kissed her, her body melted into his. She was pressed up so tightly against him that he swore he could feel the beating of her heart against his chest. 

When his tongue slid between her lips, she moaned and the sound alone had Azriel wishing he was inside of her. What sounds would she make then, as he pleasured her far greater than anyone surely had before? He would be sure of it, if that time came, when that time came. Judging from the way her hands had been wandering, it wasn’t too far off. 

The movie still played in the background, the laughter of their friends outside, but there was nothing and no one but the two of them in that moment. Elain ran her hands through Azriel’s hair, hair nails lightly dragging against his scalp and he made a low noise of pleasure. Smiling, Elain pulled back to survey him. He’d be willing to bet his face was just as flushed as hers, his lips just as swollen.

“Tell me when to stop and I will,” he breathed.

She bit her lip and glanced down. Down, at the evidence of how much he was enjoying this. “And if I don’t want you to stop?”

Azriel hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to go further, he had never wanted to go further this badly before, but because he was caught off guard. If there was one thing that he and Elain never talked about throughout the years of their friendship were each other’s sex lives. He knew Elain, though. She may not have been completely innocent, but she sure as hell wasn’t as outspoken as her sisters about what went on behind closed doors. 

“Then I won’t,” Azriel said, at last, jaw ticking as he swallowed. He felt like he was about to combust, every part of his being barely hanging on by a thread. 

Elain ran her hands down his chest as she said, “Good.”

Her fingers delicately found the hem of his shirt and she pulled it up over his messy hair before tracing the ink on his chest. Azriel scarcely breathed as he remained perfectly still, letting her explore the skin she had always seen but never touched.

She followed one flowing swirl of dark ink that trailed down his bicep, letting her hand continue down his arm until it wrapped around the hand he had resting on her hips. Azriel watched in frozen silence as she brought his scarred hand to her lips and pressed a kiss over his skin. At his quiet gasp, the only sign of his shock, Elain’s eyes flicked up to his. Keeping her eyes on his, she then kissed each finger, before taking his other hand and showing it the same love and affection.

He blinked away the burning in his eyes at the tender act. He and Elain had discussed his hands before. She knew how he felt, to have them acknowledged. The cool wash of shame he usually felt was replaced by a tightening in his chest and he kissed her again. Her hands were once again exploring his body so he took the opportunity to do the same.

One of Azriel’s hands left her face, trailing down her neck, to her breast— where he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He felt her smile against his lips and he chuckled, loving the feeling of her breast in his hand, even through the thin t-shirt she wore. It was baggy enough that he hadn’t even noticed, but now…

He couldn’t stop himself from pulling away from the kiss, from pinching her nipple just hard enough that she whimpered, and he watched as they both hardened beneath the fabric.

“Can I take this off,” he whispered, letting his thumb brush beneath the hem of her shirt, over her soft, warm skin.

Elain nodded and he wondered if words may have become just as foreign for her as they were for him. He took his time taking off that first piece of clothing. There had been so much anticipation that led to that moment, so many years wondering and imagining. Now that it was happening, he didn’t want to rush it, wouldn’t rush a thing. He would take his sweet time.

They had nowhere else to be. 

He pulled the thin tee over her head and tossed it aside, not bothering to look away from her for a second to see where it had gone. His gaze was fully focused elsewhere.

Elain watched, slowly rocking her hips side to side in a silent tease, as Azriel gently cupped her breasts in his palms, his thumbs brushing over her peaked nipples. 

Elain let out a held breath as he leaned down and took one of them into his mouth. Her fingers twisted into his hair and she gasped, eyes falling shut.

Her hips bucked of their own accord, her head falling back, and one of Azriel’s hands swept down her, holding her to him. His teeth bit down on the sensitive nub, his tongue flicking over it a second later, before his lips closed around it and he sucked. At the same time, his other hand showing the other as much attention as he could. He was hard, so hard, just a pair of leggings and panties between the two of them. She ground her hips down on him as she straddled him, the quiet noises she made like the sweetest song he’d ever heard.

His lips found her other breast, becoming as acquainted with it as he had the first, letting his teeth and tongue explore and then his lips were back on her neck.

“Az,” she breathed. 

“Hmm?” His mouth never left her breast.

“I want you inside of me.”

The words rushed out of her mouth, hardly a whisper, but Azriel caught each and every word with perfect clarity. He leaned back and caught her eye, and he knew by the look in hers that she meant it.

Slowly and gently, Azriel held her tight and rolled her over, laying her back against the blankets. Hovering over her, he kissed her softly on the lips before trailing down her body. His lips found her neck, her shoulder, between her breasts and down her abdomen before he looped his fingers into her shorts and pulled them down to reveal a lace thong in a color very similar to what her swimsuit had been. 

He pressed a kiss over top of her sex, through the lace and he swore he heard her release a shuddering breath. He relished in the sound, in the sight and smell and feel of her. His senses were overrun with her, everything around him screaming Elain, Elain, Elain. All he lacked was the taste of her, though her kiss was still fresh on his lips. He wanted to linger, to truly taste her, but she’d been very clear with what she wanted. He’d take his time between her legs, the next time he had the opportunity.

So he slowly dragged that scrape of lace down, Elain lifting her hips to help him. And then she was bare before him.

Azriel sat up on his knees, taking her in. There was a blush on her cheeks and he couldn’t tell if it was her nerves that caused it or what they’d been doing, but he brushed his thumb along her lips. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

That blush deepened and she pressed a kiss to his thumb before she reached out and tugged him towards her by his sweatpants. “How are you supposed to fuck me with those on?”

The noise that came out of Azriel was primal as Elain’s fingers gripped the waistband of his sweatpants and tugged them down. She sucked in her bottom lip as his cock sprang free, beautifully hard and ready for her. 

Slowly, she brushed her thumb over the head and stroked him once before she laid back and spread her legs for him.

For a moment, it all became real. Azriel felt like he was living in a dream and maybe he was; but, if he was, he didn’t ever want to wake up. He ran a finger between her folds before sweeping his hands up her thighs, positioned himself just right, and slowly slid his cock inside of her. 

Elain gasped as her fingers dug into his skin, her body tensing before starting to adjust to his size, his length. 

Her eyes had fluttered shut as he slid all the way home, in to the hilt.

“You feel…” Azriel couldn’t find the words. Amazing didn’t seem to cover it. Earth-shattering was a little closer to what he was looking for, as was mind-blowing, but he dropped his forehead to hers and breathed, “so fucking good.”

She only nodded in agreement, pulling his lips to hers and kissing him with a need that told him she’d been waiting for this as long as he’d been.

He pulled out and pushed his hips back into hers a long, slow thrust. He let her feel every inch of him, and with every roll of his hips, he moved faster, harder, deeper, until the headboard was thudding against the wall. Azriel had a hard time caring, didn’t really give a shit as he looked down at Elain, watched as his cock slammed in and out of her. She was whimpering, his name tumbling from her lips in hushed whispers.

Her head fell back against the pillows as she moaned and her hand went right between her legs, expertly finding that tight bundle of nerves.

“Are you close?” He asked, dragging his teeth along the exposed column of her throat.

“Yes.” Her voice was high, breathy, something straight out of one of Azriel’s most private, personal dreams.

He leaned down, his lips inches from her rosy nipple, ready to help guide her over the edge with his teeth, but she threaded her fingers into his damp hair and pulled his face up to hers.

“I want,” she panted, hand tightening in his hair, “to come with you.”

The words nearly destroyed him. Azriel nodded, lips finding hers and set a brutal pace, not caring about the banging of the headboard on the wall or the fact that the movie quit playing at some point. He was too focused on how amazing Elain felt, how beautiful she looked, how sliding his cock inside of her had felt like home. He felt it build, felt her winding up tighter and tighter and then Elain cried out, his name a prayer and a curse all in one. As soon as she shattered around him, nails dragging down his back, he’d cum right alongside her, burying his face in her neck and groaning her name.

He had never felt anything like it, had never felt anything even close to how he felt as he fell over the edge, holding her in his arms. He rode out his orgasm as she rode out hers, and when he couldn’t move anymore, he fell into her. His face was still buried in her neck, he was still whispering sweet nothings into the silence.

Once Elain’s knees stopped shaking around his hips, her hands found his back. Those gentle, delicate fingertips of hers swept across his skin until his breathing evened out. When he finally found the courage to look up at her, the look in her eyes made his knees weak. He brushed back her hair that had fallen into her face and pressed his lips softly to hers.

“That was…” he began, quietly, shaking his head. “Elain, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Years?” she suggested, and when he grinned she laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

“Was it…”

“Better than I ever expected,” she confessed, taking a deep breath. With his face in her hands, his forehead fell against hers. “What do you want to bet that everyone in this damned house just heard everything we just did?”

Azriel laughed quietly before kissing her, sweetly. “I don’t give a damn if they heard or not. Let them hear.”

Aelin scanned her room for the hundredth time.

It was perfect, and yet, she felt like something was missing, felt she was forgetting something. It was her first night of parent-teacher conferences, and she wanted to make sure that everything was perfect. Not only did she lay out treats for the parents and her students, but she also decorated her dry erase board and put together packets of all her students’ school work along with little notes to her students’ parents.

It was her first year at a fantastic and highly regarded school. She wanted the parents to like her, wanted a future in the district.

She was so nervous she felt the need to puke.

The only thing keeping her held together was the fact that her night would end with a visit from Rowan for Ollie’s conference. He would be bringing her tacos from her favorite taco truck as celebration of surviving her first round of conferences.

If she did survive.

She also had to meet with Maeve, so the chances of her survival were quite a bit lower than they would have been if just Rowan was coming for Ollie’s conference. Thankfully, she wouldn’t be alone. They’d be attending together.

It had been tough, explaining to Ollie why he couldn’t bring up Aelin being at their house so much. They’d finally convinced him that her visits were a secret and if anyone but the three of them found out, Aelin couldn’t come over anymore. It of course wasn’t true. But they weren’t ready for Maeve to know yet.

It was just after six when her first student came in, dragging her mom and dad by the hands. Turns out her only moment of peace was when she was making sure her room was perfect. After the first student came in, it was one after the other. For two hours, she talked about how good the students were, then the stuff they could work on, then she would answer a million questions, and then she would have five seconds to catch her breath before the next family came in.

She was counting down the time.

And her nerves were worsening.

As the clock approached 7:45, her door opened and Rowan came around the corner, Oliver and a bag full of tacos in tow.

“Hi, Miss Aelin!” Oliver beamed. “Mommy will be here soon. Me and daddy just ate soooooo many tacos.”

Aelin laughed quietly as she caught Oliver in a hug. “Well, we will wait for your mom before we get started.”

Rowan was frowning when he set the bag of food behind her desk and sat in one of the chairs opposite of hers. He gave her a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. Having Maeve there was worse for him than it was for Aelin, by far.

The hate between them ran deep.

Oliver didn’t seem to notice, bless his heart. Aelin knew Rowan did his best not to let his feelings for Maeve influence Ollie’s, but sometimes it was hard.

He was regaling Aelin on their dinner and definitely over exaggerating how many tacos he ate when the door opened behind them.

Maeve stood there, iced coffee in hand, her egregiously expensive purse slung over a shoulder.

“Ms. Mallory, hello,” Aelin said, standing from her chair.

“Hi, mommy!” Oliver said, hopping up from his desk

and running over to him. She squatted down and caught him, hugging him tightly.

Standing, she looked at Rowan. She gave him a saccharine smile. “Hi, Ro.”

Aelin could see Rowan’s guard go up at the use of the familiar nickname.

“If you’d like to take a seat, we can go ahead and get started,” Aelin said, gesturing to the seat next to Rowan.

Rowan stared at a spot on Aelin’s desk.

Maeve watched Aelin the entire walk from the threshold to the empty seat. She pulled Oliver onto her lap.

“So, tell me all the good things about Oliver,” she said. It wasn’t her words, but her tone that sent chills down Aelin’s spine.

“Well, he’s a great student,” Aelin began. “He always does what’s asked of him and never gives me any issues. He’s ahead in both reading and writing, and right where he should be with math.” Aelin opened his folder and took out his test scores. Before she could say anything, Maeve snatched the paper out of her hands.

“Great,” she muttered. “Anything we can help him with at home?”

Rowan rolled his eyes, but it was so subtle that Aelin was the only one that caught it.

“Work on addition,” Aelin suggested. “He does well with it, but he could always use the practice. Even when eating breakfast, he can be adding up his cereal pieces.”

“Cereal,” Oliver grinned, with a hungry look in his eyes. Aelin had no idea how he could be hungry if he had just eaten twenty tacos - which is how many he’d told Aelin he had.

Maeve was flipping through the tests and asked, “Shouldn’t you be the one to teach him addition better?”

Aelin blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you’re his teacher,” she said, holding his test scores out for Rowan without even looking at them. “We can quiz him on spelling and colors, but ensuring he’s properly taught something-.”

“Maeve,” Rowan interrupted, taking the papers from her. “You’re the one who asked if we could help him out at home. Don’t berate Aelin because you-.”

“Aelin? Not Miss Galathynius?” She asked, looking over at him with raised brows. “On a first name basis, are we?”

Rowan froze, just barely, and Aelin cleared her throat, drawing Maeve’s attention to her.

“Ms. Mallory, I make it a point to have a good rapport with all of my students’ parents. Rowan takes the time to speak with me every morning when he drops him off and on his afternoons to pick Ollie up as well,” she said, folding her hands atop her desk. “You’re more than welcome to refer to me as Aelin, as well, if you’d like.”

Maeve pursed her lips, her eyes never leaving Aelin’s. Even though she wanted to, Aelin didn’t break that eye contact. “No thanks,” Maeve said, at last. She nodded at the folder opened on Aelin’s desk. “Anything else important in there?”

Aelin cleared her throat and handed them another stack of Oliver’s art and schoolwork. “Just wanted you to see how well he’s doing.”

Maeve took all of the papers and shuffled through them, not bothering to let Rowan see any. He watched as she shuffled through them, nonetheless.

“There’s one last thing,” Aelin said, and held a picture of Oliver, his mom, and his dad across the desk. “I asked him to draw something for you both in class today, and this is what he drew.”

“That’s beautiful, bud,” Rowan said, and smiled at his son, but Maeve was looking at Aelin’s outstretched hand with narrowed eyes.

“That’s a beautiful bracelet,” she said, and her voice had gone cold.

Aelin stilled. “Thank you. It was my mother’s.”

Maeve sat back in her chair. “Looks familiar.”

Rowan audibly swallowed. He knew the story of that bracelet, knew that it was the only one of its kind. It had been passed down through the Ashryver family for years, dating back over a century. And it was very, very distinct.

Sighing, Rowan started, “Maeve-.”

“I mean, it’s gorgeous,” she went on, that sneer growing as she leaned forward and took Aelin’s hand in hers. Aelin didn’t move, didn’t dare snatch her hand away. “The design around the cuff, the turquoise stone…” Maeve shook her head. “There’s not another one like it, is there? One of a kind.”

Aelin’s eyes flicked to Rowan, but he was staring at Maeve.

“Now, where would I see such a one of a kind piece?” Maeve asked, and Aelin suddenly knew exactly where this conversation was going.

“Maeve,” Rowan warned, quietly, thankful that Ollie was focused on the coloring sheet he was working on at his desk. “Now’s not the time for whatever bullshit this is.”

“How was dinner at Mistward last week?” She asked, eye narrowing. “I’ve heard the mahi-mahi is to die for.”

Aelin stopped breathing. She was pretty certain Rowan had too from his still he was in the periphery of her vision.

“Mommy, what’s mahi-mahi?” Oliver asked, turning to look at her, oblivious to the bomb she’d just dropped.

Oh gods, there was no way she’d figured it out.

“It’s what Miss Aelin had for dinner when she went on a date with Daddy last week.”

A crease formed between Oliver’s brows, the conversation going directly over his head, but it was Rowan that asked, “You’ve been stalking me?”

“Can’t stalk what’s put on the internet for all to see,” Maeve said simply, crossing her arms.

Aelin kept quiet. She just looked between Rowan and his ex.

“Last time I checked, you were blocked,” he replied, his voice low. Aelin had never heard him talk in that tone.

Maeve ignored his snide remark. “How long has this been going on?”

“That’s none of your business,” Rowan hissed.

“None of my business?” She repeated. “She’s around my son all day, every day, I’m pretty sure it is my business.”

“Ms. Mallory,” Aelin began, but Maeve cut her off.

“This is extremely unprofessional,” she snapped, barely giving Aelin a second glance. “I’ll be speaking to the headmaster in the morning.”

“The headmaster is aware of our relationship,” Rowan replied and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Since it began before the school year, before Aelin was even assigned to be Ollie’s teacher, there are precautions we have to take, but her job isn’t in jeopardy and if you do anything to change that, I’ll-.”

“You’ll what? So it was just me you were keeping this…relationship from? You’re pathetic.” Maeve interrupted. She turned and sneered at Aelin. “Both of you. You better watch yourself.”

Rowan was about to grab Oliver to leave, but Aelin stood. “That’s enough. Rowan and I owe you no explanation of our time together outside of school. This is my classroom, and I won’t be reprimanded for my professional or personal life. If that’s what this conference has descended to, then it’s over and you may see yourself out.”

Something like pride bubbled up in Rowan’s chest and he didn’t hide his smirk as Maeve looked over at him.

Maeve’s face was turning red. “Ollie is going home with me.”

“What?” Rowan shouted, his smirk fading as he rose to his feet. “No, he isn’t.”

“I assume Miss Aelin is going home with you,” Maeve said, calmly. “He doesn’t need to hear all that. With me-.”

“I have custody,” Rowan said, through gritted teeth. “He’ll come home with me.”

Although Aelin stayed with her chin raised high, she remained silent. As Maeve and Rowan stared one another down, she snuck a glance at Oliver. He was watching his parents with wide, sad eyes.

“Don't worry, buddy,” Aelin whispered when his silver-lined, dark eyes turned to her. “They’re just having a little disagreement, that’s all.”

“There’s no need for you to address my son right now,” Maeve snapped, although her eyes never left Rowan’s.

“Yes, there is,” Aelin replied, calmly. “He is my student and he is in my room. My room is a safe place.”

Maeve slowly turned her gaze to Aelin and Rowan took the opportunity to hold out his hand to Oliver. “Come on, bud, let’s go.”

Aelin held Maeve’s gaze, but she wasn’t the one who spoke.

“I wanna go with mommy.”

A beat of silence.

Rowan’s arm fell to his side. “What?”

Oliver was standing halfway behind Maeve and he held onto the hem of her shirt. “Mommy,” he repeated. “I wanna go home with mommy.”

Aelin said nothing, but she watched as Rowan’s face fell. Maeve was already grabbing Oliver’s backpack. “Ollie…”

Maeve didn’t give him another chance to protest. Scooping him up and setting him on her hip, she didn’t look back at either one of them as she walked out the door.

<>

Technically, per their legal agreement, Rowan could have the cops called and get Oliver back instantly, but he figured one night wouldn’t hurt.

He wanted his mom? Fine.

Even though he felt like shit.

He and Aelin were at her house, but neither of them had spoken in the past hour. There wasn't much to say. Rowan wasn’t sure how, but he was pretty sure he had let his son down.

Oliver had never wanted Maeve over him, had never asked to go with her on his days. And, worse of all, he had almost looked scared. He was clearly upset with the way Rowan had been talking to Maeve.

But, gods, he hated that woman.

As the television quietly played in front of them, Rowan and Aelin laid in her bed, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder.

She had yet to say anything, had yet to ask him about it, but she clung to him willingly.

It wasn’t until another episode of the show they were binging ended that he said, “I’m sorry for the way Maeve spoke to you.”

Aelin nodded and her voice broke as she whispered, “I’m sorry I made your son want to go with her.”

And there was the reason for her silence. Not only was she giving him space to work out his thoughts in his own head, she’d been focused on her part in the day’s confrontation.

Turning her face until she had no choice but to look him in the eyes, he said, “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

She closed her eyes, but a lone tear still spilled over and he watched it until it dropped onto his bare chest. “I should have kept my mouth shut, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she breathed. “It wasn’t my place to-.”

“It was your place, Aelin,” he cut her off. “We were in your classroom, where you teach, protect, and care for Ollie and nine other kids all day long. If anyone has his best interest at heart, it’s you.”

Aelin nodded but still looked uncertain. Rowan started rubbing her back softly with the tips of his fingers.

“It’s all on me,” he went on, looking up at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have talked back the way I did. It’s what she wanted. Oliver didn’t need to see it.”

“You were defending yourself,” Aelin whispered. “And me.”

“And I should be doing both of those things,” Rowan said. “I just should’ve kept my cool a little better. Oliver has rarely seen me raise my voice or get pissed. Usually I’m good about that stuff. Maeve, though…she just brings it out of me.”

“No one can blame you for that,” Aelin muttered.

Rowan huffed in agreement and they went back to their comfortable silence.

It was Rowan’s day to pick Oliver up from school tomorrow so he would be leaving the office early and getting there right on time. Everything would be fine, he knew it would, but it didn’t make it hurt any less now.

He didn’t want to think about what the alternative might be.

Rowan swallowed and apparently it was enough to get Aelin’s attention, because she looked up at him. He sighed and tucked some loose hair behind her ear. “I’ve told you that Maeve is…manipulative. I’d like to think she’s above using our son to hurt me, but I don’t have any doubt that she’s at home right now making you out to be the villain.”

Aelin nibbled on her lip, but she nodded. “I’d already anticipated that. I’m not going to treat him any differently than I always have, just like the rest of my kids.”

“I just…” He sighed, and rested his brow against hers. “I don’t know how he’ll treat you tomorrow.”

“He’s only five, Ro,” Aelin replied. “Right now, the two most important people in his life are at odds, even more so than normal. I’m sure he’s confused and scared and doesn’t understand what’s happening, even with me.” She sighed and looked around at her bedroom. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t be around as much.”

“No.” Rowan’s answer was instantaneous. “No, I— That’s the last thing I want.”

“But I don’t want to be-.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Rowan said and he tried to keep the bite out of his voice. It wasn’t Aelin’s fault but he was so frustrated with Maeve, with the situation. “I love you. And we’re going to be fine. Ollie included.”

Aelin nodded and snuggled into him. “Well, we should probably rest. It’s getting late.”

Rowan sighed but agreed and turned off the light then the tv before scooping her into his arms and falling into a fitful sleep.

Both of them tossed and turned all night. By the time five rolled around, Aelin was already up making coffee. She let Rowan sleep but it didn’t do much good because he came down the stairs only a minute or two after she did.

After a quick good morning kiss, Aelin was getting ready and not long after she was heading toward the door.

“Try not to worry about today,” he said, tying his tie in the middle of her living room. “Let me know how it’s going when you can.”

Aelin smiled and kissed him softly. “I will. I love you.”

He said he loved her too, then she was out the door just in time to catch the beautiful oranges and pinks of the sunrise.

By the time she pulled into the parking lot, she felt like she was going to be sick. She wasn’t worried about Maeve, she knew she could handle her. It was Oliver. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he didn’t want to be around her anymore.

Regardless, Aelin parked and hurried into the building, the late autumn chill seeping into her bones.

She still had a half hour before her students began to arrive. After writing their daily agenda on the board, she made sure she had all the copies she needed and organized their morning snacks so that they would be ready.

Once the first bell rang, she felt like she would faint, that nausea becoming overbearing.

It didn’t show, though. She wouldn’t let it, not as her students began to come in, one by one. She greeted each of them as she usually did, with a hug or a high five or a simple hello - whatever her students chose.

The last one to arrive was Oliver, just as the second bell rang. He didn’t make eye contact with Aelin as he hurried to his desk and began to unpack his belongings.

Aelin looked to the door.

Maeve’s grin spread as she disappeared out of sight.

After a silent prayer to the gods, Aelin approached Oliver’s desk and knelt. “Hey, buddy. Good morning.”

“Hi,” he said, quietly, without looking up at her.

When he said nothing else, Aelin said, “You didn’t choose what lunch you wanted on your way in. Would you like pizza, mac n’ cheese, or did you bring a lunch from home?”

Without a word, Oliver stood and went back towards the door where he moved his name to the label that said pizza.

Aelin hadn’t been sure what to expect, but complete silence wasn’t one of them. It broke her heart.

She sent Rowan a quick text as she let each of them get settled in their desks, letting him know Oliver was safe and sound at school and she’d text him on her lunch.

The morning went by slowly. Aelin kept trying to get Oliver to talk, but the more and more he didn’t, she decided to give him more and more space.

By the time lunch rolled around, Oliver was acting normal with his friends, laughing and eating at their lunch table, but every time he looked at Aelin, his smile would fade.

Aelin looked at her phone.

How’s it going?

She sighed inwardly before texting Rowan back.

I’d like to know what Maeve said to him. He will barely even look at me. He won’t talk, either. I’m concerned.

It took Rowan a few minutes to reply, but then he said, I’ll talk to him after school. It’s all going to be okay. Promise.

Aelin took his word for it even though a heavy feeling sat in the pit of her stomach.

The day continued on with much of the same. The only smile she got from him was when he’d known the answer to one of the reading questions she’d asked, and even then, his dark eyes had lit up briefly before he’d remembered what had happened, and he ducked his head.

By the time pick up came and Rowan came around the corner to her classroom, Aelin was feeling defeated. He gave her an encouraging smile before calling, “Ollie!”

Oliver’s face lit up for the first time that day. “Daddy!” He ran into Rowan’s arms and gave him a great big hug before his body slouched and he was frowning, once more. “Can we go home, daddy?”

Rowan set Oliver on the floor and crouched down so that they met eye to eye. “Usually I have a hard time getting you to leave this place. What’s going on?”

Oliver looked at Aelin, but she pretended she wasn’t listening as he looked back at Rowan. “It was hard not talking to Miss Aelin all day.”

Rowan frowned. “I can imagine that would be hard. Why didn’t you talk to Miss Aelin all day?”

“I couldn’t,” Oliver replied, simply.

“Why not?” Rowan pushed.

“Mommy said I couldn’t,” Oliver said, and it was hardly loud enough to be audible. “Not unless it was about schoolwork.”

When Rowan didn’t say anything, Aelin looked over at them. Oliver was on the verge of crying. Without another word, Rowan pulled his son into a hug.

Aelin felt a burning in her own eyes as she moved around the classroom. She tried to give the two of them a bit of privacy, saying goodbye to her other students and cleaning up as she went.

Rowan didn’t let go of Ollie as he said, “You can talk to Miss Aelin whenever you want, bud. What’s going on with mommy, the reason she doesn’t like Miss Aelin…” He sighed and pulled back to look at him. “It’s hard to explain.”

“She said Miss Aelin is trying to be my other mommy,” Ollie said, lip still quivering. “And that if she is, that she won’t be my mommy anymore. I like both mommy and Miss Aelin though.”

“Miss Aelin is a friend,” Rowan said, quietly, taking Oliver’s hands. “Mine and yours. She hasn’t ever done anything mean to us, has she?”

Oliver shook his head.

“I know you love your mommy, and I want you to love your mommy, but she cannot tell you who to talk to and who not to talk to,” Rowan began, hesitantly. “If daddy tells you it’s okay to talk to someone, you can trust me. Do you trust me?”

Oliver nodded.

“You need to trust me,” Rowan said, and smiled. “Why don’t you, me, and Miss Aelin go to dinner and we can talk this out, hmm?”

Oliver looked at Aelin for the first time. All of his classmates were gone, and it was only the three of them that remained.

She hoped he couldn’t see the tears lining her eyes as she gave him a small smile.

“Okay,” Oliver said. “I want pasta.”

“Pasta it is,” Rowan said, and picked Oliver up as he put his son’s backpack over his shoulder. “Does that sound good to you, Miss Aelin?”

“Perfect,” she said, collecting her belongings. “I’m ready when you are.”

It was the tone that got Nesta. 

It was the tone that had her sitting up straight, her heart slowing in her chest. “Yes, this is Nesta.”

“Nesta, this is Claire from Velaris Hospital,” she began. “There’s been an accident-.”

It was all she heard.

After that, everything became blurred and the words that Claire spoke made absolutely no sense at all.

Rhys and Feyre were supposed to be home the following evening, the last she’d heard from her sister, she and Rhys were going to dinner and then out dancing before heading back up to the cabin.

That had been a little before eight, almost six hours ago. She could hear the rain coming down, much harder than it had been when she’d gone to bed, even a few hours before. Nyx had been asleep by seven, only waking up to cry once or twice a night the whole time she’d been watching him. All in all, the weekend had been uneventful, but she was ready for Rhys and Feyre to be home, so she could go home to her townhouse, to peace and quiet and blessed, blessed silence.

But as she quickly tucked Nyx into his car seat, doing her best not to wake the sleeping baby up, she tried not to think about the phone call. She tried not to think about the firm, but steady tone of voice as she drove across town, to the hospital. 

She had been to the hospital before.

Twice in the last fifteen years.

Once when her mother passed, once her sickness finally took her.

And once again when their father passed over complications from his heart surgery.

Nesta hated that drive, hated pulling into the hospital’s parking lot. She didn’t trust it, not one bit. She hated it. Hated the ground on which it stood.

As she parked her car in front of the building, she looked in the rearview mirror. Nyx was still fast asleep, completely unaware of what was happening, completely unaware of the phone call that had just occurred only half an hour before.

There’s been an accident.

Nesta got out of the car. She shut the driver’s side and went to the back. She carefully unbuckled Nyx from his carseat and picked him up, holding him tightly against her chest as she covered him with his oldest, softest, favorite blanket. 

The parking lot was nearly empty.

Nesta carried Nyx inside.

You need to come quickly.

She found Azriel by the doors leading deeper into the hospital, calling out his name as soon as she saw him. He turned, and she nearly froze at the look on his face, the paleness and hollow look in his eyes. But she couldn’t and she hurried to where he stood, with a stone-faced doctor.

We did everything we could.

The next few minutes were a blur of explanations and condolences, but Nesta could do nothing but hold onto Nyx, still sleeping soundly in her arms. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until Azriel slid an arm around her shoulders, offering her what little comfort he could.

They’re gone.

*

They had been driving back to the cabin when the storm had hit. Both of them had been drinking, but not enough to even break the blood alcohol level. The winding roads leading up into the mountains quickly grew slick and when they hydroplaned, Rhys had lost control of the car.

With how hard it was coming down, he hadn’t even seen the ledge coming up, or how far the drop was to the bottom of the ravine.

Nesta prayed that wherever they had gone after their final breath that they were together.

And that Rhysand wouldn’t be blaming himself.

It wasn’t his fault.

She repeated that prayer one after the other until she had begun to doze in and out of sleep.

When she woke, it was nearly five in the morning.

Nyx had slept through it all, hadn’t even realized what had happened. When they got home, Nesta had laid him in his crib, where he had remained, sleeping soundly, ever since.

4:56 a.m.

Nesta had managed to sleep for nearly forty-five minutes.

That in itself was a blessing.

Yet, as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, Nesta felt guilty. How could she sleep after the news she had just received?

None of it seemed real.

Her little sister, her youngest sister.

Dead.

All that was left of their family was her and Elain. 

Her, and Elain, and Nyx, and Seph.

Dad. Mom. Feyre.

Gone.

Nesta stumbled into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She didn’t feel a thing. After turning the faucet on, letting the cold water run for a minute, she splashed some on her face.

It didn’t bring her back to reality like she was hoping for.

She was hoping it was all a dream.

But it wasn’t.

Her legs carried her into Nyx’s nursery, where she sat for the next couple of hours, watching him sleep, peacefully. Not knowing, not realizing, not understanding his parents were never coming home.

She heard the front door open around seven-thirty, rushing down the stairs, praying that she had, in fact, dreamed it all and Rhys and Feyre would be coming inside, home a few hours early.

But it wasn’t Rhys, or Feyre. Instead, it was another familiar head of golden-brown hair, her eyes trained in the hardwood just inside the walkway. The door had barely closed before Nesta made it down the stairs and wrapped her arms around Elain.

They both collapsed, falling to their knees on the worn rug, as Elain sobbed into her sister’s shoulder.

*

The following days were a blur. A constant stream of people calling, texting, reaching out to see what could be done. Nesta and Elain handled the arrangements, with Azriel’s help, but none of them realized how prepared Feyre and Rhys had been for their own deaths.

Maybe it was because they’d both lost their parents young. Maybe it was because they didn’t want Nyx to ever have to deal with it on his own. All Nesta had to do was sign some paperwork and present their death certificates.

The funeral home had taken it from there.

She sat in the corner of the room, wearing a simple black dress that Feyre had always told her looked matronly on anyone else, but made her look like a badass CEO. It was one of her favorites. She figured Feyre would have wanted her to wear it today.

She hadn’t been able to bring herself to look into the caskets yet, to see what her sister and brother-in-law looked like, if they even looked like themselves.

She’d never be able to wipe the memory of their pale, lifeless bodies from her mind, as she and Azriel had to confirm that it was them in the hospital. Until that moment, she’d held out hope that maybe they had been wrong. That maybe someone had stolen their car and they were waiting at the bar for the rain to die down.

But even in death she couldn’t mistake their faces.

She couldn’t imagine that they looked anything like they once did, knowing that she’d never see Feyre’s bright smile or amusement sparking in Rhysand’s eyes.

The funeral dragged on, a preacher they had grown up with leading the crowd that had gathered. Nesta was asked if she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. What was there to say? There was too much to say. 

Nesta couldn’t.

So, she didn’t.

They carried the caskets out and loaded them up in the hearses. 

Nesta didn’t remember getting behind the wheel, didn’t remember loading Nyx into his carseat, didn’t remember driving to the cemetery.

And yet, she ended up standing in front of a set of holes in the ground with Nyx on her hip. Only a few words were said before the caskets were lowered into the ground.

Nesta wondered what was going through Nyx’s head. The one-year-old didn’t make a sound, not a peep as the day went on. He simply remained perfectly calm, his head resting on Nesta’s shoulder as she swayed back and forth.

“I can take him, if you want to say goodbye.”

Nesta spun around, meeting the eyes of Cassian Nazari.

He’d been crying, she could tell. If it wasn’t for the redness in his puffy eyes, Nesta surely would have snapped.

“There’s no need,” Nesta said, with an empty calmness. “I’ve already said my goodbyes.”

It was a lie, of course.

Could you ever really say goodbye to someone you loved?

He didn’t push her, just silently stepped up next to her and stared at the mounds of dirt. Nearly everyone was gone, Azriel taking a silent, distant Elain home. Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, Amren, and Varian had left just a few minutes after them. The only ones still present were those who had filled the graves, the preacher, saying a few final prayers for peace, and the three of them.

“I don’t…” His voice was rough, in a way she’d never heard it. “I keep waiting for him to call me and tell me it’s all dumbass prank,” he breathed. “That this was all some elaborate joke to get back at me for something.”

Nesta nodded, understanding. She blinked, but was unable to stop the few silent tears from sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t know what to say, but for once she agreed with Cassian.

“If you, uh, need anything…” Cassian began, before shaking his head and taking a deep breath. “If you need anything just give me a call.”

Nesta nodded once. She knew he was just saying it out of kindness due to the situation, but she supposed it was still a kind offer.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, after a moment had passed. Without giving Cassian another glance, she was turning toward her car, walking away.

Her legs became heavier with each step she took, but she continued onward until she was sitting behind the wheel of her little black car, Nyx buckled into his carseat.

He began to fuss.

Nesta understood.

Maybe he was beginning to realize that his mom and dad were never coming back.

As Nesta drove back toward the house, her vision blurred as the tears came.

*

The next few days passed by slowly. She and Nyx made it just fine, but the time seemed to drag on and on and on.

She had just put Nyx down for his afternoon nap when her phone began to ring, a number she didn’t recognize showing up on her screen.

She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she could handle another one of Rhys or Feyre’s friends offering their condolences. Their pity.

Ultimately, she grabbed her phone, swiping across the screen to answer the call.

“Nesta Archeron speaking.”

A smooth voice came from the other end of the line. “Ms. Archeron, my name is Tarquin Hadrian.”

She paused. The name didn’t seem familiar, so she cleared her throat. “How can I help you, Mr. Hadrian?”

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Ms. Archeron,” he began. Nesta sighed quietly, waiting for the words to continue, but he said something she wasn’t expecting. “I’m the Lunasa’s attorney. I was hoping to speak with you about their will.”

Shit. Nesta hadn’t even thought about a will, hadn’t thought about any of the plans Rhys and Feyre had made. If they’d planned everything, down to their burials and graves, surely they had prepared a last will and testament. “Of- Of course.”

“Are you free this afternoon?” He asked. “I know it’s short notice, but I’d wanted to give your family as much time as possible to grieve, however, there are some matters that need to be handled sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, I can be there any time,” she said, looking at the clock. Nyx wouldn’t be up from his nap for another hour or so, but she could figure something out. “When would you prefer?”

“Is three o’clock okay?”

After Nesta’s agreement, he was giving her the address to his office and the call was over and Nesta was calling Elain, asking to drop Nyx off on her way over. She didn’t want to wake him, nor did she think a meeting with a lawyer was a good place for a one-year-old.

An hour later, she was pulling into the parking lot of the small law office, and she froze in her car when she spied a familiar truck across the lot.

What in the hell was he doing here?

Nesta made her way inside, letting the pretty receptionist know who she was here to see and she was escorted back to a plush office.

Cassian already waited inside, sitting across the desk from a handsome, dark-skinned man.

“Ms. Archeron,” he said, standing, extending a hand. Nesta shook it with her own. She didn’t miss that Cassian merely sat there as she entered. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Of course,” she nodded, taking the seat next to Cassian. Neither of them acknowledged the other, which was for the best.

There was a large stack of papers on Tarquin’s desk and as he sat, he began to lead through them one by one. Sighing, he laid his hands atop the papers.

“I’m going to cut right to the chase here,” he said. “Did Feyre or Rhys talk with either of you about what should happen to Nyx in the event that both of them should die?”

A glance at each other, but they both shook their heads. Cassian said, “No.”

Another deep breath. “They...named the two of you.”

His blue eyes looked between them, and it took Nesta a moment to realize he wasn’t just speaking to her. Just as long as it took Cassian to realize the same.

As one, they both leaned forward, Nesta resting her hands on the desk, Cassian letting his elbows fall in his knees. Nesta said, “They picked us together?” at the same time Cassian asked, “I’m sorry, what?”

Tarquin cleared his throat. “I tried to advise them against it. An unmarried couple, with your own personal history…”

“I don’t understand,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “I…don’t understand.”

“Yeah, me either,” Cassian added.

“Here,” Tarquin said, handing the two of them a letter.

Neither of them reached for it, but Tarquin didn’t back down. He held out the piece of paper until Nesta snatched it and opened it up.

Cassian hovered over her as she read.

Cassian and Nesta,

We are writing this letter in case of a tragedy. Of course, we don’t expect a tragedy to happen, but you never know.

In case something does happen, you’re to take custody of Nyx. Both of you. We know you two don’t get along, but if something were to happen to us, we need you. You see, we want Nyx to have a mom and a dad. We want him to have two people who love and support him no matter what.

There’s a reason we chose you both to be godparents.

Nesta, you have a heart bigger than anyone we’ve ever met, even though you don’t often show it. When you care about someone, you care about them wholeheartedly. You devote your life to them. You make them feel loved, make them feel wanted, make them feel protected. And we know you care about Nyx.

Cass, you love more fiercely than anyone we have ever known. You were dealt a poor hand as a child, and instead of making you bitter, it made you stronger. It made you realize how you want others to be treated, instead of the opposite. You would make an incredible father. Therefore, we made you godfather.

The two of you are opposite halves of the same coin. One of you cannot succeed without the other, even though you’d both probably argue against that statement.

Look.

If you’re reading this, it means that something awful has happened. If you’re reading this, it means that we are gone. And, if we are gone, Nyx needs someone. He needs his godparents.

We know you’re scared. We know you’re heartbroken. But, if you love us, the two of you will work together to create a family-like environment for Nyx.

We love you both.

We believe in you both.

Tell Nyx we love him, too. So damn much.

Rhysand and Feyre

Nesta’s hands shook as she lowered the letter. “We… The two of us can’t… We can barely be in the same room as each other, much less take care of a child.”

“As I said, I advised them against this, especially once they explained your personal history to me,” Tarquin said, leaning back in his chair. He laid a hand atop the paper on his desk again. “As I mentioned before, they were very thorough in their planning, even going so far as to put a sum of a portion of their life insurance to pay off the mortgage of their home. They’ve left it to the two of you as well, to ensure Nyx has the easiest time possible. No on and off weekends, no moving back and forth.”

Nesta was still processing his words, when Cassian asked, “Wait, so we’re supposed to live together? Not only take care of him, which I’ll do anyways, but live in the same house?”

With a blink, Nesta looked at him. “You’ll take care of him? I’ve been taking care of him for over a week now.”

“Well, he’s my responsibility, too,” he replied, practically snarling at her. “I’m not going to disrespect Rhys’s wishes by shirking it off on someone else.”

Nesta was about to say something else, was ready to snap, but Tarquin cut her off. “It was my duty to give you the letter, per their will. What you do with it is up to you.”

Nesta left twenty minutes later, ready to set the entire city on fire. She burst out the front doors but didn’t leave alone. Cassian was just behind her, right on her heels, calling her name.

“I’m his godfather and I’m not letting Rhys down,” he said. 

She wasn’t backing down, either. “You realize this isn’t a part time job, right? This is a lifetime commitment, Cassian-.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He asked, stopping in front of her. He paused and blinked, as if he’d just realized she didn’t have him with her. “Where is he?”

She scoffed. “With Elain and Seph. I didn’t want to bring him because I wasn’t sure what this meeting would entail. He’d just gone down for a nap and I didn’t want to mess his schedule up.”

She watched as the words registered, watched as he processed them. He probably didn’t even know Nyx had a nap schedule, and he sure as hell didn’t know what it was.

Nevermind the fact that she hadn’t known it the week before, when Feyre had explained it to her before they’d left. Before they’d-.

Tears stung her eyes, trying to spill over as they always did when she thought about her sister, about Rhys. The fire inside her, the will to fight with Cassian, disappeared almost immediately.

“I need to go get him,” she said, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder, stepping off the curb towards her car.

“Hmm.” Alis set the mug down on top of a coaster on the side table. She hadn’t taken a drink. After reaching into her bag for a binder, she opened it up and cleared her throat. “Am I correct in the understanding that you and Ms. Archeron are not in a relationship?”

Cassian swallowed. “That is correct.” 

“Interesting,” she began, clicking her tongue. “I must say that I’ve never heard of such a situation.” 

“The situation was exactly planned,” he said, a slight tone settling into his voice. “Her sister died. My best friend died. They wanted us, as Nyx’s godparents, to take care of him. We…wanted to honor their wishes.”

She took a few notes. “Which I find very admirable of you two. Just as long as there are no complications.”

Cassian blinked. “Complications?”

Nesta’s voice came from the stairs and Alis looked up. “Hi, I’m so sorry, we weren’t expecting you!”

She cleared her throat and stood as Nesta approached. “Yes, Ms. Archeron, that’s the point of random visit. We don’t want you to be prepared for it. We want to see you in your everyday life.” She shook Nesta’s hand and they sat down. “Now, I assume Nyx is asleep?”

“Yeah, but I can go get him if I need to,” Cassian replied, hooking a thumb over his shoulder, towards the stairs.

Nesta slapped his thigh with the back of her hand.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Alis replied, an eyebrow raising at Nesta, before she went back to scribbling in her notebook. “We know you’re keeping him on a proper sleep schedule, at least.”

“Right,” Nesta nodded. “Two naps a day and in bed by eight, most nights.” She opened a water bottle Cassian had strategically sat on the side table and took a sip. “You two were talking about complications when I was coming downstairs? What sort of complications?”

Frankly, Alis asked, “I was just asking Mr. Nazari if you two are sleeping with each other?”

Water sprayed from Nesta’s mouth, thankfully over Cassian, not the social worker.

Even he seemed too stunned to be upset.

“If we are sleeping together?” She asked. She shook her head, adamantly. “No, cauldron, definitely not.”

“You seem offended by that,” Alis said, tilting her head. “Is there anything else going on? Any conflict?”

“Oh, no,” Nesta answered, far too quickly. “No, we’re just fine. Friends, even. Well, maybe not friends, but we don’t exactly hate one another.”

“Alright,” Cassian interjected. “Thank you, Nesta, for that. We are just getting to know each other is all she’s saying.”

“It seems like she’s saying a lot more than that,” Alis muttered, but shook her head. “Have there been any doctor visits or any other scares?”

“Nesta-.”

“I took Nyx to the doctor this morning,” Nesta said, interrupting Cassian. “Nasty rash on his ass, but nothing to be too worried about, at least that’s what his doctor said. Other than that, no scares.”

Gods, she was still drunk. She had to be, if she was telling the social worker assigned to their case that Nyx had a nasty rash on his ass.

Alis paused her note taking, looking at the two of them. “Have either of you ever taken care of a child before? Long term?”

Cassian shook his head, but Nesta said, “I was keeping Nyx, when the accident happened. It hadn’t been long, but I was taking care of him.”

Cassian knew that wasn’t the type of long term they were looking for, but thankfully, Alis didn’t push. She just resituated her notebook and asked, “Ms. Archeron, what is it you do for a living?”

Nesta immediately perked up. “I am the head chef and owner of the Thyme & Rosemary Café.”

Alis looked impressed for the first time all evening. “You’re a business owner?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nesta replied, nodding. “I opened the café right after culinary school, thanks to some generous investors, and we’ve had a very successful four years, having a profitable year every year we’ve been open.”

Cassian looked out of the corner of his eye at the woman next to him on the couch. He knew Nesta had her own restaurant, but he had no idea how well she’d been doing.

“And you, Mr. Nazari?”

He turned to look at her and scratched at the back of his neck. “I, uh… I’m a bartender.”

Blinking slowly, Alis asked, “A bartender?”

He saw Nesta cringe from where she sat next to him,but mercifully, she kept her mouth shut. “Well, technically, I’m a bar manager, but I do help make and serve the drinks, on top of my many managerly duties.”

Nesta’s head fell into her hand.

He cleared his throat ignoring her. “I also make and sell homemade, custom acoustic guitars.”

Alis nearly looked impressed. “Is that so?”

Cassian nodded. “It’s mostly just a hobby, but I sell on Etsy and at art shows from time to time. Someday, I hope for it to be a full time gig. Bartending definitely pays the bills in the meantime, though.”

“I see,” Alis said, at last. “So, you’re telling me that Nyx is fully supported financially?”

“Fully,” Cassian said, just as Nesta said, “Damn straight.”

Drunk Nesta was an interesting creature, Cassian decided.

Alis clicked her tongue as she flipped through her binder. “One last question for the evening. What do you do with Nyx when you’re both at work?”

“We hired a nanny recently,” Cassian said. “She’s highly qualified and great with Nyx.”

“And has great qualities, if you ask Cassian,” Nesta added with a wink.

“I don’t follow,” Alis replied, looking at him.

Mother’s tits, he was going to kill her. “She recently received a degree in early childhood education from University of Velaris,” he said, covering Nesta’s ass. “No major jobs yet, but we decided her qualifications outweighed her lack of experience. And Nyx loves her, so we have no complaints so far.”

“Got it,” she replied, looking between the two of them.

As she looked down to scribble in her notebook, Cassian shoved the water bottle she’d sat down on the cushions back into her hands.

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Alis said, standing abruptly, closing her notebook and replacing it in her bag. They both stood as well, Nesta thankfully not swaying on her feet. As she headed for the front door, she informed them, “Your next visit will be random as well.”

“Will it at least be in the daytime,” Nesta muttered, and Cassian pinched her ass, silently telling her to shut the hell up.

Nesta stood up a little straighter, but that was the only indication that she was following Cassian’s annoyance.

“You two have a good night,” Alis said. “Next time, I’ll have to come when Nyx is awake.”

“That would be lovely,” Cassian promised.

Nesta snorted.

Alis looked at them both before nodding her head in respect and following Cassian out. When he shut the door behind her, Cassian stormed to Nesta and crossed his arms. “What the hell?”

“What the hell what?” Nesta asked, then laughed. “I think that went well.”

“Yeah, thanks to me,” Cassian said.

“Thanks to you?” Nesta asked, brows shot into her hairline. “You were struggling down here until I came along.”

Cassian blinked, then laughed. “You’re drunk!”

“I’m fine!”

“You can hardly string a sentence together!” Cassian argued. “If we were to lose Nyx, it would be your fault.”

“Bullshit,” she snapped, getting in his face. “She loved that I was a business owner. It was impressive.”

“So is your breath, you smell like a winery,” he said, stepping back and fanning in front of his face.

In all reality, she didn’t smell like wine. She smelled like lavender and vanilla…and sex. But Cassian had to step away from that smell, especially as his memory flashed with what he’d interrupted.

Her face didn’t indicate that her feelings were particularly warm towards him in that moment, but he sighed and said, “It went okay, and that’s a good thing, no matter what. We just…need to be a little prepared for her next time.”

She sighed, agreeing.

“You can…go back to your bath now,” Cassian said, clearing his throat.

Nesta’s cheeks heated. “I was done anyways.”

The words flitted through Cassian’s head before he could stop them. Didn’t look like you were done. Looked like you were right in the middle of something.

He swallowed, sharply, and nodded. “I’m going to try and have that beer again. Heat up some more lasagna.”

She nodded, and said, “Sounds good. I’m gonna try and get some sleep.”

“Well, goodnight,” Cassian said, his eyes still connected with hers.

“Goodnight,” she said, and yet, neither of them moved. Nesta asked, after a moment, “Did you like my lasagna?”

“It was delicious,” Cassian said, even though his words were clipped. 

“Good,” Nesta snapped. “I also made homemade breadsticks. They’re in the fridge. You may have some.”

“Great,” Cassian said, pointedly. “I like breadsticks.” Nesta scoffed. “Who doesn’t?”

The two remained staring at one another.

“I’m going to bed,” Nesta repeated.

“Fine,” Cassian said.

“Fine,” Nesta repeated. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

She finally turned and made her way up the stairs.

Cassian tried his hardest, damn him, he really did, not to stare at her ass.

He did exactly as he said he was going to do, grabbing a new beer from the fridge, his original one sitting warm on the table in the entryway, and heated up another massive serving of Nesta’s lasagna, tossing a few breadsticks in the toaster oven to heat up as well.

He definitely wouldn’t complain if she wanted to cook dinner for him every night. He hadn’t been lying when he said he could cook breakfast, which he was content to do for himself, but if this was how great her dinners were, he wanted to know what her breakfast tasted like.

Which then made him think about reasons she would have made him breakfast, in any other situation than the one they were in.

He could still see her head thrown back, half lidded eyes rolling back in ecstasy. And the soft moan he’d heard. He imagined her making that noise while she writhed underneath him, as he thrust into her, plunging deep and-.

Fuck, this wasn’t good.

This was so not good.

*

Nesta had the day off and she was grateful for it, considering she had a pounding headache and was sick to her stomach.

Thanks, alcohol.

Cassian went to the bar early to prep for opening, and Nesta was left alone with Nyx, who didn’t give a damn about her hangover. 

They were currently in the living room, Nyx standing up in his bouncer, and Nesta popping her third round of ibuprofen. 

With a sigh, Nesta shook her head. “Don’t ever drink, buddy.”

Nyx simply grinned in response.

As she turned on the tv, Nesta’s phone chimed.

A text.

Excited for our non-date tomorrow. We still on for noon?

Balthazar hadn’t given her his cell phone number when she’d left the doctor’s office the day before, only the office number, in case of “emergencies”.

She saved Bal’s number, before sending a quick reply back.

I hope you didn’t pull my number from your patient database. That seems very irresponsible. But yes, noon sounds perfect.

She sent the text off, her attention bouncing from the television to Nyx. She did her best not to watch her phone.

Nyx’s hands reached out to Nesta, and he began babbling. He was hungry.

As she took him out of his bouncer and carried him into the kitchen, Nesta’s phone went off, once more.

I would never be so unprofessional. I put in ten digits and got lucky.

Nesta snorted but forced herself not to reply so quickly. She didn’t want to give off the wrong impression.

Which is what? She asked herself as she put Nyx into his high chair. “You hungry, buddy?”

She spread a small layer of Puffs on his high chair tray, swiping one for herself as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and wrote back. She chewed slowly as she typed.

Some luck you have then. Maybe we should play the lottery on the way home from our not-date.

She sat her phone down and began heating a small portion of raviolis on the stove for Nyx. She couldn’t bring herself to make lunch for him from scratch. Her head was pounding too hard and she wanted to lay him down for a nap so she could take one, too.

After his chubby hands were sufficiently covered in pasta sauce, Nesta was cleaning them off by the sink when she glanced at the calendar they’d hung up to designate when someone was on baby duty and when either of them had big plans. She froze as she remembered that tomorrow was Cassian’s day to be off, while she was supposed to be looking after Nyx.

She knew she could very well take Nyx along to lunch with Balthazar, the man worked with kids, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to them. But she knew there was a difference in separating work from personal life, it was the reason she hadn’t suggested her restaurant when he’d asked her to lunch. Hadn’t even mentioned Rosemary & Thyme. Not to mention, she would appreciate some uninterrupted time with him.

She would have to convince Cassian to watch Nyx for her tomorrow. Just for a few hours.

It shouldn’t be too hard, right?

*

Cassian got home just after one in the morning.

He had worked all day, thanks to the pick up in customers they’d had. It was good for business, of course, but he was exhausted.

And surprised, as he saw that Nesta was still awake, reading a book on the couch.

“More smut?” Cassian asked, tossing his keys on the end table.

Nesta’s eyes shot to him and narrowed. “That’s none of your concern.”

Cassian laughed, quietly, as he wandered into the kitchen. “Did Nyx have a good day?”

“He did,” Nesta said, nodding. “I had a pretty good day, too. How was your day?”

Cassian blinked, slowly turning to face her. “Fine. You sound suspicious.”

“I’m not suspicious,” she said, closing her book and setting it, cover down, on the coffee table.

It was Cassian’s turn to narrow his eyes, and he looked around the corner, into the kitchen, half expecting to see it in flames or some other disaster she was hiding from him.

“What’s up, Nes?” He said, looking back at her and leaning his shoulder on the door frame.

“Nothing is up, why would anything be up?”

She asked, not meeting his eyes.

He came and sat down next to her on the couch, leaving her nowhere to look, but at him.

She cleared her throat, knowing she’d been caught, but looked over the back of her book, resting in front of them. “I need you to do me a favor.”

He was thankful she wasn’t looking at him as his eyes dipped down to her hand resting on her lap, that hand that had been submerged under her bath water the night before. “What kind of favor?”

“I…need you to watch Nyx for a few hours tomorrow during the day,” she said, looking back at him and he dragged his eyes back to hers.

He blinked, as if he were processing his request. “What? Why?” He asked, then shook his head. “It’s my day off, you’re watching him tomorrow.”

Just as Cassian began to stand, Nesta grabbed for his hand. “Please! His pediatrician asked me to have lunch with him, and I’d really prefer not to take him along. I’ll still watch him all night, you can go hang out with Az or do whatever you want to do.”

He was so hung up on her words that he barely registered that her hand was clutching his. “His pediatrician?” He asked, alarm on his face. “Is he okay? I thought you said it was just a diaper rash!”

“No, no, Nyx is fine,” she promised. “This is less of a professional visit.”

“Less of a…” His words trailed off. “You’re going on a date with Nyx’s doctor?”

His voice was colder than she’d expected it to be.

“It’s not a date,” Nesta explained. “It’s a...non-date. Two acquaintances having lunch,” she said, repeating what Bal had said to her.

Cassian just stared at her, continuing to process. “Two...acquaintances? Nesta, that’s a fucking date.”

“And what if it is?” Nesta asked, exasperated, her own anger rising from his anger. “What if it is a date? Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” Cassian snapped.

“Sure as hell sounds like it does,” Nesta shot back.

“We have a baby now, Nesta, we can’t just date!” He said.

Nesta’s brows shot up. “And why is that?”

Cassian hesitated. “Because.”

Nesta snorted. “Great answer, Cassian.” He didn’t respond and she asked, “Do you have plans tomorrow afternoon?”

For a moment, he just glared at her before he finally admitted, “No.”

She stood, still holding onto his hand. “Please, Cass. I’ll owe you the biggest favor. You can have any day off you want. Please.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the way she said his name, that shortened nickname she never used, or the promise of a future Friday night off. It may have been the genuine plea in her voice, but he sighed.

“Fine. I’ll- I’ll watch him for you tomorrow.”

“Yes, thank you!” She threw her arms around him, squeezing tightly, and then suddenly stepped back, realizing what she’d done. “Sorry, I’ll just…” She picked up her book, clutching it to her chest. “Goodnight. Thank you.”

She was headed for the stairs before he’d even moved.

He was mortified that she’d had to see that, that he’d broken down in front of her like that. But there was so much of Rhys looking at him, all the time and he’d been holding it in for so long. And knowing that he hadn’t been able to figure out what Nyx needed was the final straw last night.

After Nesta had hugged him, he’d finally gotten the strength to pull himself together, and he pulled from her grasp. He’d noticed the dress she wore to go out then, showing just as much skin as that damn towel had, and had made an excuse about being exhausted. He’d shut himself in his room, staring at the ceiling until he fell asleep around two or three in the morning.

He wasn’t surprised she had barely wanted to see him this morning. She probably thought he was an irresponsible mess, probably figured she was better off taking care of Nyx on her own.

And maybe she was.

Nesta had some natural motherly instinct, just like Feyre and Elain had. It was an Archeron trait, Cassian had no doubt.

And although the Archeron sisters certainly hadn’t had a perfect upbringing, the three of them had always had each other.

Cassian couldn’t say the same.

His mom died young.

He’d never had a father.

Or siblings.

Or any other extended family.

He’d just had Rhysand and Azriel, and although fatherhood had come decently easy to both of them, Cassian couldn’t say the same for himself. He was the goofy, unpredictable uncle of the group, he was good in that role.

Not the ideal father figure.

Cassian picked up his speed.

Nyx giggled and threw his hands in the air. 

Regardless of his mood, he couldn’t help but smile down at him.

He loved this kid, and he knew that this kid loved him. He may not be his father, but he would do his damndest to make sure he knew how much he was loved. Every damn day.

*

Cassian had just gotten out of the shower and gotten dressed when he heard the doorbell chime.

Nyx was standing in his playpen, holding onto the padded railing when Cassian rushed to the door, throwing it open.

“Viviane, hey,” he said, opening it wide enough for her to step through. She gave him a polite smile and he shut the door behind her. “Okay, so Nyx is over there, Nesta left a note on the fridge with our cell numbers, the number for her restaurant, my bar, uh, his pediatrician-.”

Viviane laughed quietly and headed for the playpen. “I’ll call you if I need anything, but I’m sure this little dude is going to be an angel.”

She reached down and scooped him up and Nyx did nothing but beam up at her.

“He’s in good hands,” Viviane went on when she saw the worry in Cassian’s eyes.

“I know,” he smiled, although hesitantly. “Nesta will be home at four-thirty.”

“We’re going to have fun,” Viviane promised, and Nyx giggled.

Cassian took that as cue to leave and hurried out the door. It was stressful, leaving him for the first time, alone with someone they had only just met.

He found himself wondering if Rhysand or Feyre would approve.

He prayed they did.

When he got to the bar, Kallias was already there, making sure everything was ready for opening.

“You’re two minutes late, boss,” he teased.

Cassian snorted. “New nanny. Had a hard time leaving.”

Kallias raised a brow. “Hot nanny?” 

Cassian grinned as he came behind the bar. “Just your type, actually.” 

Before the conversation could deepen, Cassian seeing the intrigue in Kal’s eye, he was heading to the store room, grabbing a few bottles to keep within reaching distance when they undoubtedly got a little busy over lunch.

“I like hot nannies,” Kallias hollered. “It would be nice of you to share.”

Cassian snorted, heading back up towards the bar. He didn’t reply, shaking his head as he glanced at his friend, and he set about cutting and readying the garnishes for drinks.

With a dramatic sigh, far louder than it needed to be for Cass to hear him, Kallias began turning on the televisions around the room, two on different sports broadcasts and one on a local music channel.

Maybe he would set Kallias up with Viviane.

Even he had to admit…they’d make a pretty damn cute couple.

*

It was just before 4:30 when Nesta pushed open the front door, prepared to find the house thrown into chaos.

But, it was spotless, Nyx was sleeping, and Viviane was on the couch, reading a book. She looked up at Nesta and smiled.

“You’re home,” she whispered, even though Nyx wasn’t in the room. “He’s been down for about forty-five minutes. We played hard today. I think he’s worn out.”

Nesta blinked, carefully stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. “He was good?”

“Oh, he was great,” Viviane promised, standing up and closing her book with a bookmark placed neatly between it’s pages. “Although, his diaper rash is getting pretty bad. I changed him more often to try and keep him as dry and rash-creamed as possible. But, you may want to keep an eye out. I’ve seen worse, but you still may want to get a prescription from his doctor to help clear it up.”

Nesta hadn’t even noticed that Nyx had had a rash and chastised herself. “Yes. Absolutely, I’ll make him an appointment as soon as I can.”

Viviane smiled again, stopping to grab her purse where it sat by the floor of the couch and dropped her book inside. It was well loved, Nesta could tell, and for a moment, she considered asking what the pretty, young woman was reading.

And then she remembered who she’d been here alone with that morning.

Her eyes popped open. “Oh, gods, I hope Cassian was okay this morning. He’s not…always on his best behavior.”

Viviane brows bunched towards each other, confusion on her face. “I don’t follow?”

“I hope he didn’t say anything too inappropriate,” she rushed out. “He can be a bit much in the mornings, and-.”

“Oh, no, no,” Viviane interrupted, her crystalline eyes going wide. “No, he was an absolute gentleman. On good behavior.” She then added, “And please, don’t mistake my enthusiasm for this job, Nesta, I’m not interested in your husband or anything like-.”

It was Nesta’s turn to interrupt. “Husband?! No, no, Cassian isn’t my husband. Cauldron, no we just have to live together. He’s not even my boyfriend. I can barely stand the guy.”

Viviane hesitated. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed-.”

“It’s alright,” Nesta said, and knew her cheeks were red. “I could see how it would be easy to make that assumption.”

Viviane nodded and rocked back on her heels, uncomfortably. “Right, well...I’ll see you all tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Nesta said, trying her best to give a convincing smile.

She knew she was failing.

Convincing smiles weren’t her specialty.

But, husband? As if she would ever marry a man like Cassian. They may have had a moment where they didn’t absolutely loathe each other the night before, but that’s only because he was having a complete mental breakdown.

Nesta may be a bitch, but she wouldn’t kick a man when he’s already down.

Well, at least not in that situation. In a different set of circumstances, perhaps she would. 

Viviane let herself out and Nesta said her goodbyes, and shook her head.

Husband.

Oh, fuck no.

After a quick call to Nyx’s pediatrician, and an appointment made for the following afternoon, Nesta set out to make dinner. Nothing too crazy, just a new recipe she’d been toying with at the restaurant and she needed an unbiased opinion - one from someone whom she didn’t employ - to give her an honest opinion. She knew Cassian would be at the bar until eight-thirty or nine, but the chicken salad would be better chilled anyways.

Or she thought it was. She’d have to ask what he thought about that.

She was halfway through chopping up the roast chicken she’d spiced and marinated all day when the monitor to her left let out a lonely cry. Washing her hands, Nesta was hurrying up the stairs and found Nyx standing in his crib. He immediately reached for her, those blue eyes still drowsy with sleep, but Nesta knew he needed to be changed as soon as she got within sniffing distance. Hopefully he’d be sleepy enough that he wouldn’t fight her on the diaper change.

“What did Cassian feed you for lunch, kiddo?” She asked, scrunching her nose as she unsnapped the onesie he wore, and swapped out his diaper for a clean one.

True to Viviane’s word, Nyx had developed a splotchy, red rash on his bottom. After setting Nyx up in a swing by the door, Nesta took a few minutes to Google what a normal case of diaper rash looked like. Afterwards, she had wiped her search history and was thankful she’d gone ahead and called the pediatrician’s office, especially considering they were now closed until the following morning.

She also had to figure out a way to thank Viviane for her suggestion. Nesta almost felt like she owed the girl an apology for her initial reaction to her, based on her assumptions of Cassian. Not that she had any idea how Nesta had felt, but she still felt bad.

She may know a few things about Cassian Nazari, but she knew nothing about Viviane, not yet. Nesta should really give her the benefit of the doubt.

Even though such a thing was not her specialty.

The second they walked into the kitchen, Nyx was crying and reaching toward the fridge. Nesta put him in his high chair, letting him cry it out as she fixed him supper.

In the meantime, she dumped a pile of strawberry puffs on his tray.

He was immediately stuffing them into his mouth.

“You know, I’ve tasted those and they’re not all that great,” Nesta said, preparing him a small bowl of sweet potatoes.

Nyx looked at her and held up a star-shaped puff. 

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, but thank you for the offer.”

Nesta finished her salad and put the rest in the fridge for Cassian to eat once he got home. After taking a seat, and placing her salad and Nyx’s potatoes on the table, she dug in.

It was, obviously, delicious.

Nyx even seemed to be enjoying his sweet potatoes, though, as always more ended up on his high chair’s tray than in his mouth.

“You have an art for making a mess, buddy,” she said, shaking her head as she lifted another spoonful of the sweet potatoes to his mouth.

He took the bite into his mouth, and sprayed most of it back out in a raspberry.

She raised an eyebrow, setting the bowl down in front of her. “You’re just playing at this point, aren’t you?”

To say yes, in fact, he was, Nyx smacked a chubby hand into the mushed up mix of puffs and sweet potato on his tray.

“That means it’s bath time and then bed time,” she mused, wiping as much of him down as she could. She decided to go ahead and ditch his smeared onesie in the laundry room, and carried a diapered Nyx up to the bathroom.

A mostly uneventful bath later, she discovered Viviane must have been telling the truth about playing hard today. Nyx had been asleep before she’d made it through the second page of his favorite book, his pacifier falling out of his full, little lips.

She gently laid him down in the crib, and tiptoed downstairs to flip through bad reality TV until Cassian got home.

She hated how much she had thought about Cassian throughout the day. For once, it wasn’t about his body. Instead, it was about the fact that he had spent five minutes in her arms the night before, sobbing. She wasn’t sure what to think.

Cassian had a rough exterior. 

He was known for his good looks and how many women those looks attracted. Since Nesta met him five years prior, there were only a handful of things she could say about Cassian.

He was beautiful, but that much was obvious.

He knew how to make beautiful instruments, which meant he was good with his hands.

Nesta would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about just how good he was with those hands.

Lastly, Cassian was cocky as hell. He was hot. He knew he was hot. And he had to convince everyone who didn’t think he was hot that he was hot.

But, one thing that Nesta hadn’t known about Cassian until the night before?

He cared.

He really, really cared.

And he was scared.

She had been willing to put aside their differences for Nyx. They’d come to that agreement when he’d begun to depend on them. But now, she wanted to make things work…for him. He was terrified of letting Rhys down, something she understood. Every time she thought of something she may have done wrong, all she could think about was how disappointed Feyre would be in her.

Except…she knew that wasn’t true. Just like she knew that Rhys would never be disappointed in Cassian. The fact that he’d stepped up, had been willing to care for Rhys and Feyre’s only child…

She just had to make sure Cassian believed it.

Nesta was half asleep on the couch when the door unlocked and opened, Cassian walking through. He blinked once upon seeing her, clearly not having expected her to be downstairs when he got home.

“Hey,” she said, stretching. “How was your day?”

He tossed his keys on the table by the door, looking around, pointedly not looking at her. “It was good. Where’s Nyx?”

“He’s been down since seven-thirty or so, Viviane did great today,” she said, watching him as he walked into the kitchen. “I owe you an apology. You were right, she’s good.”

She heard a grunt of acknowledgment as the fridge opened. He came back into the living room, shaking up a bottled protein shake and cracking it open.

“I made a roasted chicken salad,” she said. “I put leftovers in the fridge for you.” “That’s okay,” he said, voice low. “You can take it to work with you tomorrow. Don’t want to take your food.”

Nesta blinked. “I put it in the fridge for you-.”

“I’m tired,” he said, heading toward the stairs. “Night.”

Nesta’s mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. “I’m sorry, what?”

Cassian stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked over his shoulder. “What?”

I made you dinner. I stayed up to make sure you were alright. “Nothing. Just didn’t realize you were so insistent on being an asshole this evening.”

“An asshole?” he repeated. “I just got home, I’m tired, and now I’m an asshole?” 

Nesta just shook her head, falling back on the couch. “Nevermind. Goodnight.” 

Cassian just stood there, looking half like he wanted to go upstairs and half like he wanted to chuck the half-empty bottle at the back of her head. He’d already had a long, horrible day full of shitty, rude customers. He hadn’t even realized it was nearing Spring Break until the underage kids with shitty, fake ID’s had descended on the bar today. The amount of customers he had to turn away since they were practically children possibly outweighed the actual customers he and Kal had served.

He’d also had Nesta on his mind all day, on the pity she had to feel for him after he lost it the night before. The fact that she made him dinner was just proof of it, that he was right.

“You didn’t need to make me dinner,” he said, staring at the wall behind her head. “I can take care of myself, alright?”

Nesta’s eyes were closed, her arms crossed as she laid back on the couch. “I didn’t say that you couldn’t.”

“Just because I lost it for a minute last night, doesn’t mean that I’m helpless,” Cassian went on. “I’m just as capable of taking care of Nyx, of being a grown ass adult, as you are.”

Nesta’s eyes opened, then, and she slowly looked over to him. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, it is,” he said, simply.

“Really?” Nesta asked. “Because you’re acting like a gods damned child right now.”

Cassian snorted as he shook his head. “I don’t have the patience for you tonight. Goodnight.”

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Nesta snapped.

“It’s all you think I’m good for, so I guess I may as well act like it, too,” he called out, not turning back to look at her.

The words struck her, made her feel two feet tall, especially considering how she’d begun to regard him instead. But she wasn’t able to stop the bite of her words as she snapped, “Oh, fuck you.”

Cassian didn’t say a word as he topped the stairs and headed down the hall.

She almost wished he’d slammed the door, almost wished he’d made a spectacle of being angry and shutting her out again, after what she’d thought may have been progress the night before. 

This was no longer Feyre and Rhysand’s house, but Nesta and Cassian’s…and it felt strange, surreal. 

A thump came from upstairs that nearly had Nesta yelping. Nyx looked up at her and her startled expression and blew a raspberry. “What was that, hmm?” Nesta asked, quietly, setting her bag down as she closed the front door with her foot. She carried Nyx up the stairs and rounded the corner to the master bedroom to find Cassian staring at the mostly empty closet with his hands on his hips. “Find something interesting in there?”

“Shit!” he cursed, spinning around to find the pair in the doorway. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Nesta said, plainly. “Especially when it’s in my room.”

Cassian’s brows shot into his hairline. “I’m sorry…your room?”

“Yes,” she said, swapping Nyx from one hip to the other. “I’ve been staying here for nearly three weeks at this point. I’ve been the one here taking care of him.”

“So that entitles you to the master bedroom?” He asked.

“It does,” she replied and Nyx began squirming. She put him down and he began crawling towards Cassian, tugging on the strings of his boots.

Cassian stooped down to pick the baby up, who instantly began patting Cassian’s face, a habit he’d picked up just before Rhys and Feyre’s accident. Cassian grinned down at him, but then he looked back to Nesta. The smile fell as he beheld Nesta watching him with her arms crossed.

Cassian sighed. “Look-.”

“No, no,” Nesta interrupted. “I’m taking this room. I need the space, and I’m a woman, so I would prefer the private bathroom.”

Cassian watched her for a long moment. “Fine.” Nesta was about to turn on her heels to get the rest of her belongings, but then Cassian continued, “But, you have to say please.”

Nesta tensed in the doorway. “What?”

“Say please and it’s yours,” he said, shrugging.

Nyx looked back and forth between Cassian and Nesta.

She blinked, staring at him.

“You heard me,” he said, leaning down to grab his backpack from where he’d dropped it on the floor. He hefted it onto his other shoulder, Nyx still staring between them. “Say please and the room is yours. And make it genuine, I want to believe you.”

“And if I don’t?” She asked, bracing herself for a fight.

He shrugged and tossed his backpack onto the bed. “Then it looks like we’re sharing. Just so you know, I’m a blanket hog.”

She narrowed her eyes, watching as he sat down on the edge of the bed, plopping Nyx down on the mattress next to him. He crawled up to the top of the bed, plopping down atop one of the pillows.

Cassian could have sworn her teeth were grinding as she said, “May I please have the bedroom?”

He smirked, asking, “Was that so hard?” and stood, grabbing his bag again, before brushing past her as he headed down the hall, taking the room across from Nyx’s nursery.

Nesta groaned, closing her eyes and sighing, before she heard the door opening downstairs.

“Hello, hello!”

She scooped Nyx up off the bed, and made her way downstairs, finding Elain, Azriel, Gwyn, Mor and Emerie in the entryway. Mor was wiggling her fingers at Nyx, and Nesta handed him over to her. He giggled as she lifted him in the air and Nesta hugged her friends. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Of course,” Emerie said, taking a look around. “You shouldn’t do this alone.”

Nesta nodded and another thump came from upstairs. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Cassian’s here already, then?” Azriel asked.

“He’s here and he’s driving me mad,” Nesta muttered. 

Azriel chuckled as he hurried up the stairs, leaving the women alone.

“Okay,” Gwyn said, propping her hands on her hips and looking around. “What do you need us to do?”

Nesta hesitated. There was so much already in this house that felt like it belonged there, so much of Rhys and Feyre that Nesta didn’t feel like she should touch.

As if she was reading her thoughts, Elain stepped forward, slipping her arm through hers. “This is your home now, too. Part of them will always be here, but you have to make it yours now.” Nesta nodded, wiping away the damn tears that kept making an appearance, but jumped slightly when a loud bang came from upstairs and Azriel and Cassian both laughed. Elain added, with a laugh of her own, “Yours and Cassian’s, I guess.”

“I wish I would stop being reminded of that fact,” Nesta said, attempting a joke as she continued to wipe at her damp cheeks. 

“Ignore Cassian?” Emerie chuckled. “That’s impossible. He likes to make himself known too much for that.”

After a chorus of laughter, Nesta was giving everyone a role. It was all just so surreal, too surreal. It was a position that Nesta would have never imagined herself to be in, especially as she opened Feyre’s closet and stared. 

Nesta had always admired Feyre’s style, even though most of her jeans had paint splatters on them. She reached up to go through the series of band tees hanging on the top rod. She chuckled at one from the Jonas Brothers concert that they’d gotten back in 2011. Nesta had taken Elain and Feyre one weekend when their dad was out of town on business. She’d bought them both t-shirts and cds and overpriced sodas from the arena’s concession stand. 

It had been a good night.

And Feyre had kept the t-shirt for ten years, even though there was a coffee stain on Nick Jonas’ face and a rip in the hem. Nesta took the shirt off the hanger and held it up. It was too small for her. It would never fit.

Nonetheless, Nesta folded the shirt neatly and put it on top of the dresser before taking down the rest of Feyre’s clothes and folding them into a bin.

She hadn’t realized the tears had returned until Emerie and Gwyn came in, the former holding a sleeping, drooling Nyx. 

Feyre’s closet had been nearly emptied. Neither of Nesta’s closest friends said a word as they entered and sat next to Nesta on the bed, one of them on each side.

Silently, they pulled Nesta into their arms.

*

Cassian looked at the broken bed frame in the guest room. 

He and Azriel started roughhousing the moment he’d come up the stairs, and it resulted in the old, rickety bed unable to hold two untamed Illyrians.

Does this mean I won?

You’ve never won in a wrestling match with me, Cass.

Looking at it now, however, Cassian was wondering how he’d take the rest apart without waking Nyx up from his afternoon nap.

“How many times have we slept in this room after a night of drinking too much?” Azriel asked.

Cassian chuckled from where he was putting his clothes in the small, empty dresser. “Too many. Feyre wouldn’t let us drive after even one drink at dinner.”

Azriel chuckled, quietly. “She always was a mother hen, long before Nyx.” 

“She had to be,” Cassian said, “look at Rhys’s choice of friends.”

Azriel grinned. “Speak for yourself.” 

He snorted. “Need I remind you of Spring Break, senior year?”

The grin fell slightly into a cringe. “Okay, maybe there are times that I fall into that category as well.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. He looked back at the bed, even the bedding somewhat in shambles. “Haven’t even lived in the house for an hour and we already broke something.”

Azriel chuckled, following his gaze. “Rhys would be proud.”

Grinning, Cassian nodded. “Feyre would have our asses.”

They worked in silence, for a while, listening to the women’s voices throughout the house.

At one point, Cassian could hear Nesta sobbing quietly from the room down the hall.

His shoulders tensed.

Azriel must have seen it, because he cleared his throat. “You know, Elain says Nesta’s not so bad.”

“And what do you think?” Cassian asked, tossing his empty duffle bag in the corner. 

Azriel was quiet for a moment then shrugged. “I’ve never had an issue with her.” Cassian huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well, you never have issues with anyone.” He shook his head as he leaned back against the wall. “I feel like I’m living a dream right now. I have no idea what’s happening, and it’s all happening way too fast.”

It was happening far too quickly. Everything. All of it.

Cassian felt like he was in the middle of a hurricane, lost and alone and confused with no end in sight.

*

Everyone had left, and only the three of them remained.

Nesta, Cassian, and Nyx.

Nesta realized this is how it would be from now on, and that realization made her chuckle out of pure absurdity. 

Cassian had asked to put Nyx to bed, and Nesta didn’t argue as he took him from her, from where Nyx had fallen asleep in Nesta’s arms on the couch.

She watched them disappear up the stairs, and she wasn’t really sure what to do after that, where to go. Should she just have gone back to her room, shut herself inside, and pretend that nothing else existed?

Cassian came back down the stairs just as Nesta stood up. As he reached the bottom, they acknowledged each other, uncomfortably.

“Well,” Nesta began, nodding slowly. “I guess I’ll be going to bed.”

Cassian didn’t say anything until she had brushed past him and gone halfway up the stairs. “Don’t you think that we should, you know, set some ground rules?”

She paused. “Like what?”

“Like who takes care of what?” He asked. “Who gets what nights off and-?”

“Nights off?” Nesta asked, blinking. “We have to take care of a child, Cassian. We don’t get nights off.”

“You know Az and Elain still go out once in a while. As long as one of us is here to watch him, he’s taken care of,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I would like to be able to go out on a Saturday night, with Az and Luce, so-.”

“Why would you get Saturday night?” She asked, her eyes widening. “I spend all day at the restaurant, all week long. If anyone gets Saturdays, it’s me. Besides, you’re a bartender, shouldn’t you be working those nights?”

“Friday nights are my money nights, so no, I’ll be off,” he said, crossing his arms. His legs widened slightly, and Nesta knew a fighting stance when she saw one.

“So I’m supposed to take Friday nights? How’s that going to work, if you’re at the bar, Cassian?” Cassian hesitated, and Nesta scoffed. “See? That won’t work.”

“You can take Sunday nights,” Cassian said, at last.

“The night before I have to wake up at five to be at the restaurant by six?” Nesta asked. “Oh, thank you so much for that kindness.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Your sarcasm isn’t necessary. And two minutes ago you thought the idea of a night off was ridiculous, anyway!”

“Well, if you get a night off, so do I!” Nesta yelled.

Cassian raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fine. How about we switch saturdays? You get two Saturday’s a month, and I get two Saturday’s a month.”

She clamped her mouth shut, fighting the urge to grind her teeth together. “Fine.”

He nodded. “Fine.”

They both stayed where they were, not moving or giving up an inch of ground.

“I’m going to go to bed then,” she said, the bite still in her voice.

“Goodnight then,” he said, and though the words were civil, they were still sharp. It was almost humorous.

“Goodnight.” With that, she turned and was stomping up the stairs.

She could feel Cassian’s eyes on her and she disappeared.

The audacity. 

She was fully aware that Cassian was full of himself, but wanting every Saturday night off?

She knew it.

He wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t ready for the responsibility of raising a child. She couldn’t expect him to be, though. Shit, she wasn’t ready, either. The only difference was that she was starting to learn all that being a guardian entailed and he surely was not.

She shut the bedroom door behind her, and considered locking it, but decided not to and looked at the clock.

it was barely eight-thirty, but she was exhausted. That had been the past few weeks though, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been awake at ten o’clock. She leaned against the shut door, letting her head fall back.

If she listened hard enough, she could hear him moving downstairs. Heard the fridge open and knew he was pulling one of Rhysand’s beers out. Nesta sighed, wishing she had thought to get at least a glass of wine before she’d shut herself in here.

If she went back out now, she’d look stupid. And she’d have to talk to Cassian again.

Not over her dead body.

So she did the next best thing, filling the massive garden tub in the corner of the bathroom, and settled into it. She sighed, letting the hot water seep into her bones.

And then there was a knock on the bedroom door.

She sunk deeper in the tub. “What?” She called, eyeing the open bathroom door.

There was a pause. “Is it time for Nyx’s bedtime bottle?”

Nyx was cut down to two bottles a day: one in the morning and one at night. Although he had been getting breast milk before the accident, Nesta had already worked through the remaining breast milk that had been in the freezer.

That morning had been his first formula bottle.

He’d been confused at first. Surely there was a difference in taste. However, Nyx eventually realized he wasn’t getting anything else and drank it down, anyway. 

“Was he fussing?” Nesta asked.

There was a thump against the door and Nesta assumed Cassian had fallen into it. “Yeah. Wasn’t crying, but he was about to.”

“Yeah. Formula is on the counter in the kitchen. Check his diaper first,” Nesta said.

She didn’t hear a response, so she assumed he’d gone to handle it, when a few minutes later another knock sounded. This time it was accompanied by a frantic crying.

She was out of the tub, grabbing a towel and digging through a box she’d packed the night before for her robe. Just as Cassian started talking, she got to the door, pulling it open.

He paused, taking in her attire, or lack thereof. Nyx was still crying, which knocked him back into motion. He raised his hand, holding up an empty bottle. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-.”

She took the bottle, shaking her head, and brushing past him to head down the stairs. She didn’t snap at him, not when she knew he’d never had to prepare a bottle before. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t irritated.

“You couldn’t read the directions on the back of the box?” she asked, then muttered. “Just like a man.”

When she looked back over her shoulder, Cassian was close behind, Nyx tugging on the end of his shaggy hair as he wailed. If he heard Nesta, he didn’t deign to reply. 

Nesta sighed, carrying the bottle over and filling it with water from a newly opened jug on the counter. “You don’t have to warm it up anymore. He can drink it with room temperature water. It’s pretty easy. Fill it up to the eight ounce mark on the bottle, measure four scoops of formula and dump them in.” She did just that, measuring out each scoop carefully but quickly. “Then shake.” She handed the bottle to Cassian, who started shaking the bottle.

“How long do I shake?” he asked.

Nesta almost wanted to laugh at how frantic, how wild-eyed he looked. Here was Cassian Nazari, shaking a bottle with a screaming baby on his hip. “That’s good. Just give it to the poor kid.” 

Nyx snatched it from Cassian as he lowered it towards his face, holding it on his own. Cassian’s hand hovered close by and he looked up at her. “Can he do that? I mean, should I let him? Or should I hold it?”

Her face softened as she watched her nephew, his tears stopping almost immediately. “He’s fine. Maybe use a hand to support it just in case, but he can handle it.”

He nodded, looking down at the baby as well. His blue eyes were wide as he watched them, glancing from Nesta to Cassian, and back.

He said, softly, “I wonder if he realizes they aren’t coming back yet.”

The words nearly broke Nesta’s heart. Her words were as quiet as his. “ I don’t know… That’s not exactly something you can explain to a one-year-old.”

His nod was slow. “It doesn’t seem fair. They didn’t deserve this.”

“Ready?” Lorcan asked, more to himself than the others. 

“It’s going to be perfect,” Elide assured him, leaning over from the passenger seat to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Cassian was a little more hesitant, but he nodded in agreement, nonetheless. 

They were soon out of the car, heading toward the front door on the walkway, their luggage remaining in the trunk. Lorcan led the way, his hand in Elide’s, Cassian trailing just behind.

After not bothering to knock, Lorcan was pushing his way inside of his childhood home. Cassian only hesitated for a moment before crossing the threshold. 

“Mom? I’m home!” Lorcan called, walking down the short hallway before coming out into the open living room.

“We’re all in the kitchen!” a high-pitched, excited voice traveled through the house.

Lorcan shot them both a humored look before leading them through the living room and into the bustling kitchen. 

Five sets of eyes shot their way, and before Cassian could even calm his thoughts, they were all rushing toward Lorcan, then Elide, and Cassian himself. The three of them were wrapped in hugs, and all the women were talking so excitedly at once that none of them could be deciphered. 

It wasn’t until they had all gotten their hugs out of the way that introductions occurred.

“Oh, I’m just so happy to have you all here,” Lorcan’s mother began, her hand over her heart, the sweetest of smiles plastered on her lips. 

“Glad to be here, Ma,” Lorcan smiled. “Everyone, this is Elide, my girlfriend, and Cassian, my...brother. Our brother, I guess.”

The word shocked Cassian so much that he had to clear his throat to bring himself back to reality.

“And this is my mom, Natasha, and my sisters - Delaney, Koda, Becca, and Little Liza,” Lorcan continued. 

“I’m not little anymore, Lor,” Eliza argued, rolling her eyes, even though she hadn’t even hit thirteen. 

Lorcan chuckled. “Right. Sorry. Should I go with Eliza, then? Or, do I need to call you the full Elizabeth?” 

Eliza took a moment to think about it. “Eliza’s fine.” 

“You have a beautiful home, Ms. Salvaterre,” Elide noted.

Natasha smiled. “Call me Natasha, and thank you, that’s very kind. Lorcan should show you the rest of it - no, wait, he’s been gone too long. Laney, give them a tour!”

Delaney’s snort was so much like Lorcan’s that it made Elide giggle. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Elide, you’ll be sleeping in Koda’s room, and the boys will share Delaney’s while the girls share a room with their mama,” Natasha winked.

Lorcan hesitated. “I, uh, thought we were going to stay at the motel?”

Natasha raised a brow. “And miss opening presents bright and early Christmas morning? I don’t think so.”

The look he shot Elide was much more apologetic than the one he shot Cassian. But his girlfriend didn’t seem to mind, not as she fell into easy conversation with the other most important women in his life. She was laughing and Lorcan could see the true joy in her eyes when she glanced over at him every now and again. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face.

“I guess we can go get our bags then?” Cassian asked, clearing his throat.

“Good call,” Lorcan said, looking out the window at the quickly accumulating snow.

The boys were in and out as fast as they could, dropping the bags unceremoniously in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Lorcan stepped into the threshold of the living room, where his mother, Elide and Dakota were currently looking at an old, and extremely embarrassing, photo album of Lorcan’s earliest recitals. “Mom, can we discuss the…sleeping arrangements?” He asked, clearing his throat as he leaned against the doorframe.

Elide’s eyes went wide as she looked up at him.

Lorcan looked quickly away, back at his mother.

In true Natasha Salvaterre fashion, she rolled her eyes but followed him into the kitchen, nonetheless, and Cassian quickly joined the others to look at embarrassing photos of Lorcan. 

“Yes, my son?” she asked, the slightest hint of sarcasm laced in her tone. 

Lorcan looked back in the living room at Elide, who was still looking through the book, sitting between Cassian and Dakota. “I really like her, mom.”

Her head tilted slightly to the side. “I can tell. And?”

Lorcan blinked. “So, don’t scare her away.”

Natasha sighed. “Lorcan, you have never brought a girl home to meet me. Ever. Do you really think that I would try to scare her away?”

Lorcan hesitated.

“Girls like seeing embarrassing pictures, they think it’s cute. Besides, you were precious when you started dancing, so hush, I show those pictures to everyone.”

Lorcan gawked. “Everyone?”

“And you should really try and be more welcoming towards Cassian, dear,” Natasha continued, ignoring Lorcan’s comment. “Me and the girls will be as welcoming as possible, but you are both the only boys and one of the only people here he knows. He’s nervous being here, I can tell.”

Lorcan knew it would be interesting bringing Cassian into his home, into his family. It would be an adjustment, but Cassian seemed like he truly wanted to be there.

He nodded, understanding her. “I will be. Speaking of that, he’s going to want some time to himself. To call his own girlfriend and stuff like that. So.”

“So?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat. “He can take Koda’s room to himself.”

“That’s very sweet of you to offer to sleep on the couch, the whole break,” she said, pointedly.

“Mom, I’m almost twenty-one. She’ll be twenty in two months. Do you really think we don’t sleep together at school?”

“That’s at school,” she said, sounding decidedly motherly. “You’re home, though, and under my roof. It doesn’t matter how old you are, rules are rules, Lor.”

“We were planning to stay at the motel,” he reminded her.

“Rules are rules,” she repeated.

Lorcan’s jaw locked. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Natasha lifted a brow. “You wanna try that again?”

Lorcan sighed. “I love you, but you’re being ridiculous.” 

“You and Cassian will sleep in the same room,” Natasha said, simply. “That’s final.” Lorcan sucked in a frustrated breath, but Natasha kissed him on the cheek and hurried back into the living room to look at Lorcan’s baby pictures.

Lorcan watched from the doorway of the living room, shaking his head, slowly. Elide was fully engrossed in looking through the photo albums, Cassian was talking with Eliza about her love of dance, and for a moment, everything was perfectly perfect.

The afternoon went about like that, everything falling into place. The perfection of it made the time fly by, and when Christmas Eve dinner came around, Lorcan was actually smiling.

The food was delicious, the laughs were never ending and Lorcan and Laney were half buzzed after sharing a bottle of wine. Cassian was playing piano while Eliza and Becca sang Christmas songs, and Dakota was ogling Cassian from across the room.

“I think Koda has a crush,” Elide said, under her breath to Lorcan, as the couple stood in the corner, holding each other’s hands and sipping on wine. 

“Koda?” Lorcan snorted. “She just broke up with what’s-his-name, Cass is just her rebound.”

“Her rebound?” Elide repeated, laughing quietly.

“Not that she’ll try anything,” Lorcan said, unable to stop his grin. “She just needs a guy to check out in the meantime.” 

Elide laughed, watching as Cassian told the girls that it was time to get ready for bed. It was approaching midnight, which meant that the house would soon have to go quiet and they would all have to retire to their rooms.

Lorcan groaned, facing Elide. “I’m sneaking into your room in an hour.”

She chuckled. “Your mom said no, and I respect that.”

Lorcan groaned, yet again, pulling Elide close to him and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Be rebellious.”

Elide gave him a mock frown. “But Santa won’t bring me any presents.”

“I’ll still bring you presents,” he mumbled, meeting her lips with his own.

“Break it up you two!” Becca hollered, making her way up the stairs. 

“Come on, Elide!” Eliza followed, excitedly. “We’re going to have girl talk before bed!”

Lorcan snorted, but Elide was smiling up at him. “Gotta go. Girl talk awaits.” 

“Have fun,” he whispered, giving her one more kiss. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” she winked, hurrying after Lorcan’s sisters. 

Natasha watched them, fondly, as she picked up the plates and napkins that they ate their deserts on around the living room. “She fits in well here, Elide.”

“She fits in well anywhere,” Cassian chuckled, helping Natasha pick up the mess. 

Natasha’s smile widened as she met Cassian’s eye. “You fit in pretty well here, too, you know.”

Cassian’s eyes flickered to Lorcan before returning to his mother. “I, um...I wanted to thank you, Natasha. For welcoming me here for Christmas. You didn’t have to-.”

“You’re family,” she interrupted. “Family spends Christmas together.”

Cassian smiled as he nodded and took the dishes to the kitchen sink. 

“Go to bed,” Natasha said, kissing Lorcan on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Twenty minutes later, Cassian and Lorcan were settling down for bed, the former on the bed, the latter on the floor atop a mountain of blankets. 

Lorcan felt like he had just closed his eyes, finally falling asleep when banging on the door had both he and Cassian sitting up quickly.

“ITS CHRISTMAS, D BAGS,” Koda called. “TIME TO GET UP!”

Lorcan heard his mother say, “Dakota Caroline!” as he fell back against the blankets and chuckled. 

“Hope you didn’t want to sleep in this morning,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

Cassian was checking his phone when he laughed quietly. “Seven is a little early for my tastes, but Nesta has been up for two hours, so I should probably call her.”

Lorcan was already climbing to his feet and stretching when he said, “Yeah, Elide isn’t an early riser, so I’m sure she’s still asleep. I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Sounds good,” Cassian said, sitting up and yawning. Lorcan was almost to the door when he added, “Hey, Lor?”

He turned and asked, “Yeah?”

Cassian smiled and said, “Merry Christmas, brother.”

Lorcan chuckled, his smile genuine. “Merry Christmas, brother.”

~~~~~~

Bryce could have gone home for Christmas - probably should have, if her mother had a say in it - but she decided to keep it simple, for once, and remained in Velaris to prepare for the classes she would be instructing. 

She was doing okay spending the holiday alone, until the holiday actually arrived. By the time eight arrived and she’d eaten a stack of holiday pancakes, she was already growing restless. 

By eight-thirty, she had her boots on and was taking a drive to the edge of campus, where a familiar apartment stood.

She’d been checking on him often, daily, although she usually just called or texted him. When she texted, they kept texting for the rest of the day, and when she called, they would talk for hours. 

They were growing closer, again.

It terrified her as much as it excited her.

When he had finally woken up in the hospital, he had no recognition of the hours leading up to his overdose. Nor of the time he was unconscious, including Bryce’s tearful admission.

But his evident relief at seeing Bryce by his bedside had told them both what the other hadn’t said. They needed each other.

She hadn’t told him what she’d said before he’d woken up, instead she wanted to prove it to him, every day.

And she had been trying to do just that.

Now, on Christmas morning, she was knocking on his door. 

She only had to wait a few seconds before he was opening up the door, a broad smile on his lips. He was dressed in jeans and an ugly Christmas sweater, his feet bare.

“I thought we said noon?” he grinned, although the light in his eyes said he didn’t mind that she was early for their Christmas lunch. 

“Figured I’d beat the crowd,” she said, shrugging as he let her in.

He laughed, taking her coat from her and hanging it up by the door. It would only be the two of them, but whatever her excuse,  he wasn’t about to complain.

“What’s that over there?” She asked, her eyes falling on the bright red package sitting on his kitchen counter.

“That’s none of your concern,” he said, picking it up and taking it into the living room. “Until after lunch, that is.”

She began. “About lunch…”

He turned, eyes narrowing. “What about lunch?”

“What if we did Christmas breakfast instead?”

He arched a brow. “If I know you as well as I think I do - which, I do- I know you’ve already had three pancakes shaped like Christmas trees.” 

Bryce blinked. “So?”

“So come on in and help me cook,” he grinned.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” she crooned, making her way into his kitchen.

They spent the entire morning making pancakes that roughly resembled trees, and by the time Bryce was sitting on his couch, watching Elf, bundled up in her own ugly sweater, it was nearly eleven. When she heard Hunt’s soft footsteps padding into the room, she turned and found him carrying two mugs of hot chocolate.

“I was hoping you remembered,” she said, grinning.

Hunt snorted, handing her a mug and setting his on the side table on the other end of the couch. “Trust me, I’ll never forget to have a box of hot cocoa in my pantry during the holidays.”

A few years back, things had been busy for the both of them leading up to the holidays. Bryce was the lead in not only V-SOT’s Christmas recital, but two other companies she danced for had recitals the same week. Hunt had his own engagements, from the showcase to a Christmas EP he’d been trying to release on time. Somehow, the box of hot chocolate ran dry before Christmas morning and the meltdown Bryce had rivaled that of some toddlers.

After Hunt told her she was acting like a child and she said he was acting like an asshole, they’d screamed at each other until Bryce grabbed Hunt’s face and kissed him. They’d made up pretty quickly after that.

Now, Hunt sat down on the other end of the couch and his attention was soundly on the movie. Bryce looked to where her feet were tucked under herself on the couch. He’d always sat there before, it had never mattered to him.

After a second, she cleared her throat intending to tell him he was more than welcome to sit next to her, but when his dark eyes fell on her, she choked.

“When are we opening presents?” She asked coolly.

He grinned, cocking his head to the side. “You always were impatient.” 

“Not true,” Bryce said, but knew it was a lie. 

“You said presents,” Hunt said.

Bryce blinked. “Yeah. So?”

“That means I get one too?” he asked.

Bryce couldn’t help her smile. “You think I’d show up here on Christmas empty handed?”

Hunt shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know, I’ve been pretty naughty this year.”

Bryce laughed. “Well, good thing Santa was pretty forgiving.”

She got up and went to her bag where she pulled out a gift wrapped in royal blue foiled paper. 

Hunt tracked her every movement as she approached the couch, yet again. “Here.”

He stared at it for a moment before taking it into his hands. “You know, I was just kidding, you didn’t have to get me anything-.”

“Open it, Hunt,” Bryce said, gently. 

He slid his finger underneath the paper, gently pulling the tape loose. “You didn’t spend too much, did you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I made them myself.”

Hunt’s eyes flicked up to her. “Really?”

She smiled softly. “Really.”

Hunt looked back at the box and-.

“Fuck!”

He pulled his hand back, blood welling along his finger. “Shit, my bad.”

“Your bad?” Bryce asked, jumping up and hurrying into the kitchen. “Hunt, you’re bleeding!”

“It’s just a paper cut,” he said, sighing as she went into mom mode.

Bryce hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel before hurrying back to him. She pressed it against his finger. “Just hold it on the cut until the bleeding stops.”

“It’s a paper cut,” Hunt snorted. “I didn’t get stabbed.” 

“You’re bleeding,” Bryce argued.

Hunt scoffed. “Hardly.”

Their eyes met, and suddenly Bryce was rethinking everything. She pulled back, her hands falling onto her lap, instead of on the paper towel she had been pressing into Hunt’s hands.

“Thanks,” Hunt said, at last.

“I’m sorry my gift injured you,” Bryce said, chuckling.

“It’s okay,” he laughed, unceremoniously ripping the paper off. No more paper cuts for him.

The gloves were crudely knitted together. He thought they were supposed to be gloves, at least. Hunt could see that there were four finger holes and a thumb off to the side - he thought, at least. The tips of the fingers were…missing though.

“You mentioned how cold your hands have been getting when you play guitar.” Her words were soft and she’d answered his question before he’d even had a chance to ask. Her eyes were glued to the soft, dark grey fabric in his hands. The stitches were spaced out and when he ran a thumb over one, a callous snagged on one of the strands. He wasn’t even sure they’d hold up when he tried them on, they may just unravel into nothing.

No gift had ever meant as much to him as these shitty, handmade gloves.

“I thought I could buy you some, but, you know, it’s Christmas…..” she shrugged. “I-.”

“I love them,” he interrupted. “Thank you.”

She nodded, slowly, unsure if she believed him or not. “You’re welcome.”

He grinned, pulling the gloves onto his hands, praying they held together long enough that she wouldn’t feel bad. Once they were on, he stretched out his fingers. They really were soft, even if they weren’t the sturdiest. 

He met Bryce’s eyes. “I’m never taking them off.”

Bryce rolled her eyes. “You’re so full of shit.” 

“No, I mean it,” he protested. “Never. Bed, shower, gym, everywhere.”

Bryce couldn’t help her laugh.

Hunt was on his feet, padding over to the tree and picking the package up. He sat it in her lap as he sat back down next to her and Bryce grinned up at him.

She removed the paper with much less care and he was surprised she wasn’t bleeding by the time she held the seek black box in her hands.

There was no writing on it, but as she clutched it, he could tell she knew exactly what was in that box.

She wasn’t breathing.

“Hunt, you’re joking.” Her words were barely a whisper.

If she could breathe, she would have been in trouble. His answering grin was breathtaking. “Open it.”

Bryce lifted the lid with shaking hands.

The satin shoes inside were impeccable and the ribbons slid between her fingers as she picked them up.

“I figured you still wore the same size,” he said, softly. “I had some help picking them out.”

It was true. With the assistance of Cassian, Nesta and Manon, though it was mostly Manon, Hunt had found the perfect gift.

“These are the Graynor Minden,” she said at last. “These are like…the Bugatti of pointe shoes.”

“So I’ve been told,” he said, chuckling. “The sales woman talked my ear off about them. Tried to sell me a men’s pair, too, but I politely declined.”

“Shame, I would have loved to see you in those,” Bryce said, meaning it as a joke, although she had a difficult time putting all the strength into her voice.

He had bought her a beautiful pair of slippers.

“You like them, then?” Hunt asked, quietly, his eyes soft.

Bryce slowly put the lid back on the box. “Hunt, I love them, but you didn’t have to-.”

“You’re going to be an instructor here,” he interrupted, gently. “A new job means a new wardrobe, right?” 

She stared at the box on her lap, unable to grasp that she was living the reality she was currently in. “Hunt…”

She said no more, her words trailing off, unable to form a thought. He was moving her chin, then, with just one finger until her eyes met his. He reached up with his other hand, brushing her fiery hair back behind her ear. 

“I’m proud of you,” he said, quietly.

She wanted to laugh, wanted to tell him that there was nothing to be proud of, but she didn’t have time. Instead, he was leaning toward her for the softest, sweetest of kisses.

It was nothing more than a few seconds, but that was all it took for them both to realize that it didn’t matter what life threw at them, be it career-altering injuries or life changing accidents. Without the other, there was no life. Just an endless sea of loneliness and longing.

When Hunt pulled away, his eyes were bright. Neither of them acknowledged the moment that had passed between, but they both knew. Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against Bryce’s and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Quinlan.”

Bryce felt an overwhelming sense of joy as she whispered back, “Merry Christmas, Orion.” 

~~~~~

“On the count of three.”

“Can’t we go inside? It’s freezing.”

“Not until I kick Aedion’s ass,” Aelin hissed. 

Rowan just rolled his eyes. There was no use trying to talk Aelin Galathynius out of a snowball fight. 

“Fine,” Rowan sighed. “On the count of three.”

“One. Two.” Aelin held the giant snowball in her hands. “Three!”

The moment she came around the tree trunk, though, she was met with a giant snowball hitting her right in the face.

“We said the face was off limits, Aedion!”

His reply was brief. “So was the groin. Didn’t stop you!”

Aelin was chuckling as she turned around and shook snow out of her hair. It was true. The second she’d seen Aedion lifting that huge ass snowball above his head, she just couldn’t help herself. With brilliant accuracy, she’d thrown a tightly packed snowball riiiight at the front of Aedion’s jeans.

He’d dropped that big ass snowball directly on to his head and Aelin had rolled around in the snow, laughing for five minutes. Which was coincidentally how long it took Aedion to get up out of the snow too.

“Where are you going?” Aelin asked, as she watched Rowan’s giant frame striding steadily through the snow. 

“Inside!” he called, without looking back at her. “Warmth! Food!”

“I’m with him,” Lysandra agreed, hurrying after Rowan towards the back door of Aelin’s parent’s house. Her parents were in the south, touring the coast of Eyllwe, but told Aelin she could party with her friends in Orynth for a few days for winter break. 

Which is exactly what she did. 

Now, on Christmas day, their morning had been spent decorating a tree they had cut down in Aelin’s backyard and playing in the snow. Aelin had wanted to try her hand at a proper Christmas meal, but settled on frozen pizzas and wine instead.

She wasn’t the best cook.

“Fine,” she groaned and began heading towards the door. “You’re all just a bunch of- AHHH!”

The high pitched scream had both Rowan and Lysandra turning around, looking for an in seen assailant. All they found was Aedion, laughing his ass off, and Aelin, furiously trying to shake the snow out of her shirt.

“That was fucking cold!” She cried, chasing after him, already scooping up a handful of snow. She and Aedion were both laughing, so Lysandra and Rowan rolled their eyes and hurried inside, back to the hot chocolate and toasty fire in the living room. Just a few moments later, they heard another high pitched squeal, which had Lysandra snorting as she watched Aelin take her revenge, a huge scoop of frosty white powder getting trapped in Aedion’s pants.

“They’re as bad as children,” Rowan muttered, sipping from his Rumchata infused hot chocolate. 

“We love them anyways,” Lysandra agreed.

Rowan just chuckled as the two came in through the backdoor. Before anyone could say anything, Aelin was pointed up. “Patio. Hot tub. Necessary. Now.”

She continued on, hurrying up the stairs without another word. Aedion, his teeth chattering, followed. Rowan and Lysandra shot each other a look before following their significant others up the stairs. 

Aelin was slipping on her swimsuit already when Rowan opened her bedroom door with an arched brow.

“I’m so cold I can hardly move,” she said, wrapping a blanket around her body once her suit was secure. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Rowan simply shook his head with that soft, fond smile he only kept reserved for her. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Only a little,” she said, teeth chattering quietly.

He chuckled, wrapping her up in his arms until she stood shivering. He asked, “Better?”

“Better,” she sighed, forehead pressed against his chest. After a minute she looked up and gave him that dazzling smile that left him senseless. How he’d managed to make this amazing woman fall in love with him, he’d never know, but he thanked the gods every day for her.

“Let me change and I’ll be right down,” he murmured, his lips already brushing hers.

“Mmhm.” She replied, but clearly had no intention of going anywhere.

It was only a few moments later that a fist slammed against her closed bedroom door and Lysandra cooed, “Break it up in there, you two.”

It was Rowan who held his middle finger up to the door and that fact had Aelin laughing. “Go,” he muttered. “I’ll change and be right down.”

“Okay,” she chuckled, and gave him one last kiss before slipping out her door and following after Lysandra. 

Rowan quickly pulled on his shorts before making his way downstairs to the kitchen to grab Aelin’s Grinch Punch. Rowan hadn’t asked what she had put in the pitcher, but from the smell of it, he knew it included a whole lot of vodka. With the entire pitcher in hand, and four glasses, Rowan was walking back upstairs to where the back deck entrance was, and once he was through the sliding door, he was met with the grins of Aelin, Aedion, and Lysandra, all of whom were staring at the punch and not at him. 

“Look who brought the Christmas party!” Aelin winked, gesturing for Rowan to fill her up a cup. He poured them each a glass before slipping into the steaming water. He immediately relaxed, as Aelin scooted closer to him, practically sitting on his lap. Not that he would have complained.

Lysandra sighed happily, sipping on her straw and Aelin asked, “What’s got you grinning? We said the hot tub stayed PG-13.” She narrowed her eyes at her cousin, who held up his hands in surrender.

Lysandra snorted. “I was just thinking about the beginning of the semester versus now. None of us knew each other. Who would have thought on day one we’d be here?”

Aelin and Rowan eyed each other. Definitely not the two of them, not after their first encounter.

“Actually,” Aedion said, after draining his cup and reaching for a refill. “Technically, Aelin and I knew each other before we got there, so your logic is flawed, babe.”

Lysandra rolled her eyes as she elbowed her boyfriend in the ribs. “Okay, except for the two of us that are related, none of us knew each other.”

Aedion grinned as he began his second glass of neon green goodness. 

“It’s been a pretty exciting semester,” Aelin agreed. “I’m pretty excited to see what the rest of the year holds.”

“And the years after,” Lysandra added, lifting her glass in the air. They all followed her lead, raising their glasses high as the snow slowly began to fall from the clouded sky. 

“Merry Christmas,” Aelin said, laying her head on Rowan’s shoulder. “To friends.”

“To friends,” they repeated, and clinked their glasses together before getting wasted on whatever concoction that had come from the festive mind of Aelin Galathynius. 

~~~~~

Nesta had already talked to Cassian twice today, but she still missed him. They hadn’t gone more than a couple days without seeing each other since they officially became a couple, and not being able to see him on one of her favorite days of the year…sucked.

Hence why she’d volunteered to cook Christmas dinner for everyone. She knew Elain and Azriel would be at the soup kitchen until just after lunch and she wanted Feyre and Rhys to relax. Plus, she loved to cook.

She was just finishing up the mashed potatoes when she heard a knock and then her door cracked open. “Hello?”

“Come on in,” she called, trying to keep her sweater’s long sleeves from falling into the fluffy potatoes in the deep pot.

Feyre strolled in carrying a covered bowl, Rhysand just behind her with a bag full of presents.

Nesta lifted a brow. “What’s that? I told you to rest.”

Feyre glanced at the bowl in her hands before setting it down on the counter. “Oh, calm down. It’s just homemade applesauce.”

“Mom’s homemade applesauce?” Nesta asked, lifting the lid to take a peek.

Their mother had always made the worlds best crockpot applesauce when they were kids, before she passed.

Feyre grinned. “Yup. I would’ve had more to bring, but…” she shot a look at Rhysand.

He shrugged, setting the gifts down in front of the tiny table top tree Nesta had put up in the apartment. “What? It’s delicious. Once I started, stopping was hard as hell.”

“Welcome to our childhoods,” Nesta laughed, setting it with the rest of the food. “Except we learned early not to eat too much.”

“You’d get sick?” Rhys asked, raising an eyebrow as he walked back to the kitchen.

“Gods, no,” Feyre laughed. “Mom would ground us by not letting us have any more, even with dinner.”

“That’s just cruel,” Rhys muttered, wrapping an arm around Feyre’s shoulder. “Please tell me you'll use that on our son.”

With a snort, Feyre said, “Absolutely.”

The front door was thrown open and Elain and Azriel entered.

“Merry Christmas!” Elain hollered, then froze. “I sense mom’s applesauce.”

Rhysand lifted a brow. “Alright, that’s impressive.” 

Nesta laughed, opening up the oven to take out the turkey. “It’s for dessert.” 

“Fair enough,” Elain said, grinning as she set her and Azriel’s gifts by the others. “It smells delicious.” 

“Thanks,” Nesta beamed. “I’ve been cooking since eight.”

“That’s longer than we’ve been up,” Feyre said, stretching and perching on the arm of the couch. “This one kept me up all night.” She rested a loving hand on her stomach. Her bump was definitely showing, but at just four months she was still able to conceal it by wearing baggier clothes. Around their family, though, Feyre had nothing to hide. The form fitting sweater showed her bump off and neither Feyre or Rhysand could hide their grins.

“Which is why I’ve been telling you to rest,” Nesta argued, starting to set all of her dishes in the center of the table. “Instead you’re making applesauce.”

Feyre rolled her eyes.

“Anything I can help with?” Elain asked, stepping into the kitchen.

“Oh, no, I’m almost done,” Nesta said, taking a bowl of corn and setting it between the potatoes and the basket of rolls. “All I need is for all of you to sit down and get comfortable, because we’ll be around this table for a while.”

As everyone got up, Nesta’s phone vibrated. She didn’t even bother looking who it was from before she answered.

She already knew. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” his sweet voice came from the other end. “How’s your lunch coming along?”

“Just got done, we’re about to sit and eat,” Nesta said, smiling as she leaned back against the countertop. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” Cassian began, “we ate the world’s biggest breakfast, so apparently lunch isn’t for another three hours.”

“You’re also two hours behind us,” she laughed. “Have you opened presents?”

“Yeah, and I feel like shit because I only brought one for Elide and Lorcan.” He sighed. “Nes, they all had me something.”

She could hear the emotion in his voice, could hear how confused and overwhelmed but happy he was. “That’s amazing, baby. I can’t wait to give you yours.”

The way her voice lowered just a bit at the end told him that it wasn’t a gift he’d be able to show his friends.

“Speaking of,” he said, and she could tell he was hurrying out of the room. “Have you been in the back of your top left dresser drawer today?”

Nesta’s eyebrows rose and she, too, snuck off to her bedroom. “You mean, my underwear drawer?”

“Is that what you keep in there?”

She could hear the mock innocence in his voice and she rolled her eyes as she opened it and reached her hand into the very back.

Her fingers closed around a box.

“Cass,” she whispered, shaking her head as she pulled off the lid. 

A silver whole note hung on the end of a long, silver chain.

When she said nothing, staring in awe at the thoughtful gift, he said, “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.”

“I love it,” she breathed. “Cass, I love it.”

“Good,” he said, his smile evident. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she promised, her heart overwhelmed with how much joy was in it.

“With my whole heart,” he added and Nesta couldn’t help the groan as she rolled her eyes.

“That was so cheesy,” she sighed, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she removed the necklace from the box and latched it around her neck.

Cassian asked, “But you’re smiling, aren’t you?”

She reached up and fingered the circular charm hanging around her neck. “Yes,” she admitted.

“Good,” he said. “Now, go eat all the delicious food you made for our families and pass out into a much needed food coma. I’ll call you in a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed, still spinning the charm. “I love you, Cass.”

His answering chuckle was full of love. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

After hanging up, she looked in the mirror and admired the necklace. It truly was beautiful. She had no idea how he had afforded it, something so grand and lovely. 

When she showed her sisters, they were all grinning like fools. 

Just as they had sat down to begin their extravagant meal, Azriel’s phone buzzed, and he only looked at it for a second before shaking his head with a quiet laugh and shoving it back into his pocket.

“Dorian again?” Elain asked, plopping a helping of mashed potatoes onto her plate. 

“Mhmm.” Azriel helped Elain to a helping of turkey before he put some on his own plate. “He went home with Manon for break. Apparently, her grandmother is terrifying.”

“He’s called ten times today,” Elain laughed.

Rhysand was shaking his head. “Poor guy.” 

It was perfect. A perfect meal, a perfect day, a perfect gathering of family and loved ones. After lunch, they sat around the living room and opened their gifts. They laughed, drank, and ate way too much food, but the memories made would last a lifetime. 

And to think, before the school year started, each one of them were living completely different lives.

It was only Christmas.

Nesta decided she couldn’t wait to see what the New Year would hold.