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gorl-power · 2 months

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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 44

This part fought me at every corner, but I said screw it. Let's post and move on. 😅 It's crazy to think there are only 5 more parts left and an epilogue. The end of an era is arriving soon. I'm excited though, to have this one finished because I've got a lot of other goodies in the works right now. Stay tuned!

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 5,852

It had been a month since the car accident and their family found out about the pregnancy. The first week after the wreck had been rough, always worrying over whether she would eventually start bleeding as a late-term consequence of the crash. Azriel, her blessed husband, was doing everything in his power to keep her calm.

But she didn’t. Not a speck of blood.

Elain thanked every god for the safety of her babies knowing she wouldn’t have survived losing them.

She and Az hadn’t discussed any further on his retaliation tactics, hoping that he would drop the whole issue. Escalating right now when they were about halfway through her pregnancy didn’t seem like the best idea.

Elain did trust Azriel’s decisions, even if she didn’t necessarily agree with them.

A sigh escaped her lips and she rubbed her palm over her more prominent belly. She was beginning to round out now, rather than just looking like an oversized, carb-based pudge. Her scrubs were starting to get tight and it was only a matter of time before she had to invest in a larger size. At least in the top. The bottoms still had some stretch available.

“Doctor Archeron,” her boss called and she whirled around to face him. “We have an incoming pediatric patient who needs a surgical consult. Are you up to being my second?”

Pediatric surgeries didn’t come often, so when they did, he always made sure she had the opportunity to assist—especially since she was the Attending and would be taking these cases on with the team of residents here soon.

She was already moving to his side. “I’m in.” With her nausea and dizzy spells, Elain had to cut back on some of her surgical procedures, unable to give her best results to the patient. She was sure it was the combination of the stress and the constant standing that always had her head feeling woozy. So, she took what she could, and then made rounds for surgical consults in the pit. Having built a strong bond with the residents, they were always eager and willing to grab her a snack or craving when she needed it, even when she profusely told them they did not need to do so. But Elain had to admit, it was nice when they did, and she made sure to reward them with her knowledge and expertise when handling difficult cases.

They slid open the glass door where the young patient was held and she stopped in her tracks. The little boy couldn’t have been more than four years old, with dark hair that brushed over the tops of his ears, and golden-brown skin. His eyes flashed when they entered revealing a green and golden gaze.

Elain recognized his heritage immediately.

He was Illyrian. Like Azriel.

She also read the fear plastered on his face, in his movements as he cradled his broken arm to his chest. Large tears littered along his lower lash line; something inside of her cracked at that desperate look.

“Hello, Kaden,” Thesan said in a kind voice, lowering the iPad to his side and looking directly at the boy. “We’re going to help take care of that arm for you.” He took a step forward and Kaden flinched, crying out softly as the movement tugged on his injury.

Her boss stopped his approach; a level of uncertainty crept into his gaze as he glanced at her for assistance.

Elain cleared her throat, capturing the boy’s attention. She moved the rolling stool closer to his bedside and slowly sat down on it, making sure he watched her every move. “Hi, Kaden,” she spoke in a soft voice. “My name is Elain.” She shuffled slightly closer, relieved when he didn’t balk at her approach. In fact, it almost seemed like his eyes flicked down to her swollen stomach before returning to her face. “I see that your arm is hurt. Would you mind if I took a closer look?” Elain held out her hand, letting it lie on his bed palm up in a calm, welcoming gesture.

When he hesitated, she added, “You’re safe here, sweetheart. We won’t hurt you.” She wasn’t sure why she said it, but something in her gut told her that it wasn’t just strangers he was afraid of. It was people altogether. And that concerned her, more so than just from a physician’s standpoint.

Finally, he moved his arm over to her, those tears falling down his cheeks as he whimpered in pain.

“I know, baby. I know. You’re doing so well,” she cooed, gently examining the injury between her fingers. From the disfiguration, it was obvious that it was a transverse complete fracture, the radius and the ulna having stacked on top of each other, and somehow not penetrating through his skin.

Elain sat wondering how the hell this child had such a severe injury, and it was then she noticed the scar on his other arm from a different, extensive wound. She frowned, glancing up at Thesan through her lashes. “Without a proper x-ray, I can’t be definitive on how extensive the damage is, but I’m certain he’ll need this surgically repaired.

The other doctor crossed his arms.

Kaden flinched.

Her mouth parted. Because that wasn’t just a flinch of fear. It was a flinch of abuse. Elain had no doubt in her mind about his home life. A lump swelled in her throat at the thought of it, and she watched as Thesan slowly lowered his arms to appear less intimidating toward the young boy.

Without thinking, she reached up to trace the pads of her fingers across his temple, sweeping his hair back before brushing away the tears that still stained his cheeks. Elain released a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding when he didn’t shy away from her touch. “I’m going to put your arm in a brace to hold it still until we can fix it, okay?”

He didn’t speak, didn’t even shake his head to indicate that he understood her, but he watched her, those green and gold-speckled eyes wary, but curious too.

She slid the stool back, reached into one of the drawers on the moveable cabinet, and grabbed what she needed. Getting him into the brace was a whole thing on its own. He cried and screamed as she tried to be as gentle as she could, and every sound he made felt like a knife in her chest. “I know, sweetie. I know. But this will help, I promise,” she murmured, trying to calm him.

His pain broke her heart. Shattered it into a million pieces. Because no child deserves to suffer like that.

Once she finally got him strapped in, Elain released his arm but didn’t step back. No, she couldn’t leave him in this state. Instead, she brushed more tears away with her thumb, cupping his cheek in comfort. It was completely out of line in that patient-doctor relationship, but frankly, she didn’t give a damn. Elain wouldn’t leave him like this—refused to. So, she gave him the gentleness of her touch, the security she knew he didn’t receive from his parents, wherever the fuck they might be.

“Elain,” Thesan said, catching her gaze. “Can we speak in the hall?”

She nodded, swiping her thumb over his cheek one last time. “We’ll be back, Kaden,” she murmured, resisting the urge to kiss the top of his head. Those damn hormones were really getting to her.

He slid the door shut behind them, turning to face her. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She knew he didn’t mean her actions. “The severity of his fracture looks like it came from a large fall. Maybe down a staircase. Did you notice the scar on his other arm?”

“I did,” Thesan told her, eyes going hard. It wasn’t a look she saw on him often, but child abuse cases were always difficult. “It looked like something that required stitching but didn’t receive it. It’s too harsh to have been healed properly.”

She grunted in agreement. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get an x-ray from him. Not when he’s this terrified. I know he needs surgery without it, but maybe we can grab an x-ray after we put him under?” Her boss nodded his head in a way that said he was on the same wavelength as her. “Where are his parents? How did he get brought in here?”

“I’m about to go find out from Viviane. Hopefully she or one of the other nurses can give us more detail.”

“I’ll reach out to social services and see if I can get our social worker from child protective services down here quickly. I suspect child abuse and we’re going to need somebody to sign off on his surgery,” Elain said, already pulling her phone from the front of her scrubs.

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “You did good in there, Elain. He wouldn’t have let me get near him, but you connected with him.” He paused, eyes flicking between hers. “It was that maternal instinct coming out. I could see it in how you handled him—comforted him. Excellent work.”

She couldn’t stop the blush from rising to her cheeks. “Thank you, Thesan.”

Gripping her once more, he strode away, heading for the nurses’ station to speak with them about their patient.

Elain glanced back over her shoulder at the child in the room behind her, his body curled up on his side as best as he could with his arm braced. His little hand fisted the sheets, eyes having drifted close. Her heart hammered in her chest. What else could he have been through that they didn’t know? Scrolling through the phone, she tapped on the name of their CPS contact.

It rang twice before she picked up. “Hey,” Elain said quietly. “I need you at the hospital. Now.”

A pause before she said. “Give me fifteen minutes,” and hung up.

She stared through that glass door, lips pulling down into a sad frown. Something drew her toward him, and Elain was determined to figure out why.

~~~

Elain was waiting for the CPS worker at the front of the nurses’ station. She and Thesan had a quick convo where he informed her of everything they knew about their patient, which turned out, wasn’t a whole lot. He had been sent over from the hospital in Illyria, not having a pediatric surgeon on hand to help him. Technically, she and Thesan also weren’t pediatric surgeons, but they’d been trained in those patients to be able to provide him the care he needed.

Her attention snagged on the tall woman walking into the building, her pace quick and determined.

Elain met her halfway. “Emerie,” she murmured, shaking her hand. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“You sounded urgent on the phone.”

They strode through the hospital to the elevators. “It is. My patient’s name is Kaden. He has a transverse complete fracture that requires surgery.”

Emerie flicked her thick, dark plait of hair over her shoulder. “Parents won’t sign off on it?”

“Parents aren’t here,” Elain said, pressing the button for floor three to take them to the pediatrics department. “His neighbor called it in when she got home from the grocery store. Told the EMTs that she heard his screams and just called for help.”

“How old is he?”

The doors slid open and they stepped out of the elevator. “Just over four.” She directed them toward his door. “There’s something else,” she started, looking over at the boy in question. “He won’t speak and seems very intimidated by people. Fearful of them. I suspect he’s a victim of child abuse. I was barely able to get the brace on him, so we haven’t attempted an x-ray yet.”

Emerie pursed her lips in contemplation. “What’s your plan?”

“We want to do the x-ray while he’s under. It’s obvious he will need his facture repaired surgically, but we won’t get a clear picture of the damage until we get him prepped.”

She nodded. “I can get on board with that after I try and talk with him of course.” Emerie looked in at the child lying on the bed. “You said he’s just over four?” she asked.

“Yes. His chart shows his birthday was a few months ago.”

Those dark eyes found hers. “He looks awfully small for a four-year-old.”

Elain’s heart ached in her chest. “Yes, we were thinking he appeared a bit malnourished.”

“Do me a favor. When you get him in for x-rays, get some of his body. I want to see if any previous injuries can sanction the abuse.”

Elain’s chin dipped in confirmation as she grabbed the handle of the door and slid it open. “Hello, Kaden,” she said, voice softening. “I’ve brought a friend who wants to talk with you.”

His head turned to look over at them, eyes going straight to Emerie. He shuffled on the bed, curling into himself.

She shared a glance with Elain before moving forward, cautiously. “Hello, Kaden. My name is Emerie. I’m here to help you.”

He blinked at her, not unfurling from his fetal-like position.

Emerie frowned, returning her attention to her. “Do you think he might be deaf?”

Elain’s brows shot into her hairline. She hadn’t thought that at all. “He seems like he can hear us, but let me see,” she said, turning to sign can you hear me at the little boy.

No response.

She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s deaf. Just mute.”

The social worker’s mouth turned down further. “I’ll sign off on the surgery. I can see the injury from here. Has anyone tried to contact his parents?”

“There’s a number for a father, but it’s been disconnected. I can give you his file to see if there’s anything you can pull from it.” Emerie gripped her arm in thanks, moving to sit down on the rolling stool that she sat upon earlier. “I’m going to call up to the OR to get a room prepped. A nurse will be in with the forms to sign in a bit.”

She gave Kaden a small smile, hoping it would bring one to his face, but he just stared at her, little hands fisting the bedsheets. Elain felt an undeniable pull toward the child. A deep-seated need to help him—care for him. She just needed to figure out how.

~~~

Four remodeled fractures.

Elain sat in the chair next to Kaden’s bed as she looked through the X-rays they took of him. She pulled out four, severe remodeled fractures—now five with the one they just repaired. How the fuck did a child of four have five fractures in his lifetime already?

Anger, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before burned inside of her like a volcano readying to erupt. It was obvious that this boy had experienced such tremendous pain and horrors in his young life. She couldn’t help but compare him to her husband, born into cruelty. Abused and neglected. Left to fend for himself.

It left a dangerous spot in her heart. One where she wasn’t sure if she could untangle him from.

The door slid open and Emerie popped in, her dark eyes glancing toward the sleeping child. “How’d it go?” she whispered. Getting him under had taken some work. The anesthesiologist ordered him to be held down so he could put the mask on his crying face when she entered.

“Do not hold him down,” Elain had growled, storming into the operating room after having scrubbed down. The surgical nurses seemed to back up at the look on her face. Even the two residents assigned to the surgery hesitated. She’d moved to his side, fingers stroking his soft cheek. “Hi, sweet boy,” she murmured, voice softening. “I’m going to fix your arm now, but you need to go to sleep first. You don’t want to be awake for this.” Her thumb made a gentle caress back and forth on his face. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

She made quick work wiping his tears away, humming under her breath a simple lullaby. Elain waited until he was calm, silver-lined eyes drying as his eyelids slowly lowered without her even using the gas on him. She knew he was likely exhausted, having gone hours without much sleep. The constant crying would’ve drained him too. So, only when he finally shut his eyes, did she take the mask from the anesthesiologist and place it over his face.

The door clicking shut behind Emerie pulled her from her memory. “Getting him under was rough, but I managed to get it done.” She held out the X-rays for her. “He’s had four other fractures that I found. Two hairline ones on his third and fourth ribs, one to his left femur, and one…” her words trailed off, unable to spit out the location of that last injury.

Emerie took a seat on the stool, facing her. “Where was the last one, Elain?”

She took a ragged breath. “On the back of his skull.”

“Any ideas on how he got it?”

Elain sat back in the chair she’d brought in. “Looks like he might’ve collided with something. Probably pushed backward and fell into a table or something similar.”

“They were set properly, though?”

She nodded. “Yes, the last one looks to be about a year old now. The others are about two.” Elain frowned. “The first four were cared for, but this time he was left alone to deal with it. What changed?” she wondered more to herself than anything, but it appeared the social worker had the answer.

Emerie handed her another file. “His mother died. It wasn’t in his medical report, but I had some people do a little digging and found the name of his birth parents. Lorenzo and Anastasia Salazar.” Her lips turned down in the corner. “Reviewing everything you’ve given me and the reports I’ve pulled, I’d theorize the abuse came from the father and when he left, the mother took him to seek medical attention off books.”

“Off books?” Elain asked, brows furrowing.

“There’s nothing in his medical history about the abuse. No flags have ever been attached to his profile in the system. So, either they paid off whatever doctor they used, or they had somebody private doing at-home calls.”

Like Azriel’s personal medical team…She was careful to keep her face neutral, but Elain had a feeling that Lorenzo was a part of some gang, if not the Illyrian Mob itself. Sighing, she looked back at the sleeping boy, her heart racing in her chest.

“Should I be looking into other options for him aside from foster care?” Emerie asked carefully, eyes flicking down to her pregnant stomach and then back up.

Elain’s dark gaze met hers. “I don’t know,” she said earnestly.

The social worker seemed to understand. “Tell you what. I’ll prepare both options for you and then you can decide what you want to do after you talk to your husband.”

Something inside her chest unlocked at her words.

A groggy sigh caught their attention and they twisted to see Kaden’s eyes fluttering open. His small whimper had Elain moving, sitting on the edge of his bed to run her fingers through his dark hair.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she murmured.

He looked at her with large, hazel, and green eyes before curling into her side, cuddling close to her.

It took all of Elain’s willpower to not sob in elation that he felt comfortable with her now. How long had he gone without love or affection that he would cling to a near stranger who showed him any sort of warmth?

Emerie smiled, rising from her chair. “I’m going to go start handling some paperwork. Call me if you need anything in the meantime or if anything changes.”

She waved her off, resituating herself on his bed as she gave herself a few more seconds of snuggling this precious boy.

~~~~~

Azriel knew something was bothering Elain the moment she stepped through the elevator door. He could read it on her face, in the half-assed smile she shot him. In the way she picked at the food on her dinner plate.

It frustrated him that when he asked her about work, knowing something was wrong, she lied to his face and said it was fine. It wasn’t fine. Nothing about the way his wife was acting was fine. He just wished she would tell him what it was.

“You need to eat, El,” he tried, keeping his voice soft.

She pushed her plate back. “I’m not hungry.”

He tried not to get irritated—he knew Elain was carrying a lot on her plate with her job and the pregnancy. But he was done with her not being honest with him. Azriel sighed, setting his utensils down on his plate with a clank. “All right. I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

Her dark eyes glanced at him, before returning to stare at her meal. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit, Elain. I can tell something is wrong without you even having to say it. It’s written as clear as day on your face. I am your husband. You’re supposed to confide in me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s the matter.”

Az expected her to relent. To sigh, eyes rolling to the sky and finally tell him everything. What he didn’t expect was for her to burst into tears.

Her face fell into the cradle of her palms as a heart-wrenching sob tore from her throat.

For a moment, he froze, blind-sighted by the sudden emotion. And then the panic swept in. He was out of his seat a second later, moving around the edge of the table to pull her chair back and kneeling in front of her seat. “Hey,” he murmured, rubbing his hands on her thighs. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He kissed her kneecap, squeezing her legs gently to show her he was there for her.

Elain sniffed, running the back of her hand under her nose. “You didn’t upset me.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Then what did, love?”

She let out a shaky breath, hands falling into her lap. He took one in his, gripping it tightly. “I had a patient today with a fractured arm that we had to surgically repair. He was only four, and was brought in alone—no father and the mother died last year.” Elain sniffed again. “I found four other remodeled fractures on him from over the last two years. One of them was on the back of his skull.”

Azriel had a feeling about where this was leading. “Abuse?” he asked, voice carefully soft.

Elain nodded. “It would appear so.” She wet her lips, finally meeting his gaze. “Az, he looks like you. He could be your son.”

His eyes widened, unsure of where she was going but he had a hunch.

“I picked out his Illyrian heritage easily enough, but his circumstances, the way he’s been brutalized…they all remind me of you. Of your past.”

He couldn’t argue with her. Just hearing about the pain that had been inflicted on him reminded Az of his childhood. In how his father and half-brothers tortured him. It took an effort to not glance down at his scarred hands, a physical reminder of the trauma he’d endured. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“I’ve been in touch with Child Protective Services and he will likely go into the foster care system. But, looking at what’s been done to him, in the fact that he refuses to talk, and is terrified of adults, I’m concerned he won’t even be considered for adoption…” She let the words hang there, hoping he’d pick up on the unspoken ones she hadn’t yet said out loud but was hinting toward.

Az cocked his head to the side. “You want to adopt him.” It wasn’t a question—it didn’t need to be one. He could see Elain’s every desire as if it were written on her forehead. She had fallen in love with that child.

She dipped her head in confirmation, lower lip trapped between her teeth.

He squeezed her fingers again, thinking over his next few questions. “Love, I need to ask you something, and I want you to promise me you won’t get upset with me for it. Because I think this question needs to be asked.”

Her tongue darted along her lip, but she nodded for him to continue.

“Could the desire to adopt him have anything to do with your pregnancy? I know you have a lot of hormones running through you right now, and your maternal side is going to be very potent. This isn’t just because of that, right? You truly want him?”

Elain was already shaking her head. “No, it’s not that. He was brought to me for a reason, Az. I can feel it in my gut.” Her small hand cradled her stomach in emphasis.

He kissed her knuckles. “And it’s not because he reminds you of me?” He needed to hear her say it. That she wasn’t trying to save this child because of the similarities, but because she truly wanted to take on another kid.

“I’ve never been one for higher powers, but there’s something about Kaden that has completely unraveled me. He fears people but he trusts me. I know, deep in my heart, he was brought to my hospital because I could give him the life he deserves. That we could offer him something better and love him so fully, he’ll never remember a time where he suffered.” Elain wiped the tear from under her lashes. “He is supposed to be our son, Az. I just know it down to my bones.”

It was a lot to consider. She was halfway through her pregnancy with twins and adopting a third child right now would be insane. But he knew they could do it—that they had the means and the love to give to three children. People might call them mad, but looking at her, he had never seen such determination in her eyes and he could feel it buzzing under his skin. “All right,” he said, squeezing her hand again. “I’ll come to the hospital tomorrow afternoon to meet him.”

Elain’s brown eyes brightened like rays of sunshine. “Really? You mean that?”

“If he’s important to you, then he’s important to me, love. That’s the only thing that matters.” And he meant it too. Azriel would lay the stars at her feet if she asked for them.

More tears ran down her cheeks as she slid off her chair and threw her arms around his neck. He held her close, one hand cupping the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, and the other running lines up and down her spine.

“Thank you, Az,” she cried, dampening the skin of his throat.

He hushed her sobs, pulling back to hold her cheeks in his palms. “I love you, Elain. All of you. And I would give you anything your heart desires.” His words had her crying in earnest, enough so that it took him a while to calm her down.

Thoroughly exhausted, Azriel carried his pregnant wife up the stairs and put her to bed; a hum of excitement stirring in his chest at what was to come.

~~~

Azriel pulled into a parking spot outside of the hospital at exactly three o’clock. His heart was racing in his chest like he’d just run a marathon, his gut swirling with anxiety. Elain had told him that the boy—Kaden, he reminded himself—was fearful of adults. In particular, males.

What if he didn’t like him? If he was scared of him? The questions had been daunting him all day and if he was being honest with himself, he was worried. He was worried that he wouldn’t be able to form a connection with this child. That he’d only bond with Elain and would resent Az’s presence.

It was fucking irrational, he knew that. But still, the thoughts invaded his mind and refused to let go.

He pulled out his phone and checked the messages from Elain.

Third floor, children’s ICU.

He’s been exceptionally clingy to me today.

Az smiled down at his phone at the second message, picturing the little boy snuggled into his wife’s side when she visited him. Which, was every chance she got.

Taking a deep breath, he climbed out of the vehicle and headed to the front entrance.

The Moonbeam twins had taken up residence in the lobby and spotted him immediately, rising from their seats to greet him.

“Mr. Knight,” Fenrys spoke. “Is everything all right?” he asked, looking over his shoulder into the emergency room concerned.

“Everything is fine. I’m just meeting Elain for an appointment.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. They had decided to forgo telling anyone about the potential adoption until much further into the process, not wanting anyone to try and talk them out of it.

“Of course,” Connall said, stepping aside. “We won’t keep you waiting.”

He offered them a quirk of his lips before heading for the elevator, but he stopped on his way, spying the hospital gift shop. In particular, the stuffed teddy bear in the window. With a glance over his shoulders to make sure nobody had spotted him, he turned into the shop and plucked the bear out of the window display, taking it to the cashier.

A few minutes later, he was riding up to floor three, the soft, plush toy in his grip. Az tugged on the knot of his tie, loosening it around his neck. His hazel eyes spotted Elain across the floor, sitting on the edge of a bed. Her mouth was moving, but she was behind a closed door so he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Like a moth to a flame, he moved toward her, his heart hammering in his chest as he approached the glass slider and knocked.

Elain’s head snapped up, the most radiant smile pulling on her lips as she beckoned him in with a wave of her hand. Fuck, she was so gorgeous. Even made more radiant by the pregnancy as she entered into the second-trimester glow.

Azriel slid the door open, catching the end of her sentence.

“—someone I’d like for you to meet.”

Her fingers threaded through a dark mop of hair, and he finally let his eyes roam over the small child clinging to her waist.

“Kaden, this is my husband, Azriel. Azriel,” she said, gaze flicking to his with a soft smile. “This is Kaden.”

He looked at the young boy, meeting his stare and offering him a calming smile. “Hello, Kaden. It’s nice to meet you.”

Not a sound. Nothing from him other than turning to bury his face further into Elain’s side.

His heart broke, but Azriel was nothing if not determined, placing the teddy bear on the bed against the railing.

Elain grinned at him, thumb rubbing over Kaden’s cheek. “Did you see what Azriel brought you?” she murmured.

A green eye, flecked with gold peeked out from Elain’s waist, glancing at the plush toy but he didn’t reach for it.

Az sat down on the rolling stool, sliding over to the opposite side of the bed as his wife.

“We were just reading a story,” she announced, handing him the book. “How about Azriel finishes for me?” she murmured, brushing Kaden’s dark hair away from his face. “How does that sound?”

He thumbed open the book, going to the page she indicated they left off on. Clearing his throat, he began to read, using the inflections of his voice to aid him in his efforts to make it engaging. Kaden didn’t move away from his wife the entire time he spoke, but he did eventually turn his head to watch him.

Azriel took in the child in his peripheral, seeing the resemblance of himself. He could see why she had claimed he could’ve been his son. Bearing nearly his identical coloring and many similar markers of his Illyrian heritage, Kaden could easily be mistaken as his biological child.

And yet, it was obvious that Kaden was terrified of him.

He sat there for an hour, reading with him, trying to converse with him, and nothing. Azriel felt like a failure. Rising from his seat, he bid the boy farewell, shooting his wife a sad smile.

“I’ll walk you out,” she told them, ruffling Kaden’s hair before following him out of the room.

“He hates me,” he groaned, stopping in his tracks and scrubbing the heels of his palms over his eyes.

Elain moved to stand in front of him. “He does not hate you, Azriel. He’s just intimidated by you—”

“How is that better?”

She ran a hand up his bicep to grip him around the back of his neck. “You can make yourself less intimidating, Az. You in a suit is a force to be reckoned with, and frankly, I have a feeling his father wore similar attire.”

His brows furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

Her thumb traced over his jaw. “The woman who found him refused to give the paramedics her name. They said she looked terrified to even be talking to them. He’s Illyrian, Az…” her voice trailed off, leading him to the answer.

“You think his father is in the Illyrian Mob.” Not a question but a statement of fact.

“Lorenzo Salazar,” Elain confirmed.

The name didn’t immediately register anything in his brain, but he had something to go off of now. Azriel would look into him, find every single detail about the man’s life, and then decide if he deserved to die for the pain and suffering he put his son through.

“Come back tomorrow in jeans and a plain shirt and I’m sure it will help,” Elain told him, bringing his attention back to her face. Her eyes glanced over his shoulder to the boy in the room, a smile tugging on her lips. “Az,” she whispered, nodding toward the room behind them.

Something warm flared in his chest as he turned, and saw Kaden clutching the teddy bear he brought tightly to his body.

Elain stepped up to his side. “If he was afraid of you, Azriel, he would not be touching that toy. You connected with him, even if you can’t physically see it, but you did.”

A sense of awe washed over him, followed by an overwhelming urge to love and protect that boy. He wasn’t sure how long they stood staring at his sleeping form until he breathed, “I want him, El…I want him to be a part of our family.”

Her soft hand slipped into his, fingers lacing. “So, let’s bring him home.”

With joy and love, they stood watching the boy who would one day soon become their son.

~~~~~

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78 notes · View notes

gorl-power · 2 years

Text

Starting Over {Five}

Collab with @theladyofdeath.

Summary: Elide Lochan thought she had met the love of her life only to find out that he was not the man she thought he was. After her world starts falling down around her, she makes a move back to her childhood home in hopes of starting over. Although it’s the last thing she expected, she meets a man the exact opposite of her ex. With his help and that of her best friend, Aelin, she learns how to stand on her own two feet and take control of her life.

Starting Over Masterlist

——————————

Chapter T/W: Mentions of previous abuse.

——————————

The wine was set out along with a large display of foods that were not healthy, whatsoever. Elide didn’t care, though. Cheat days were necessary for one’s health, she believed. It’s what she told all of her clients and she only told her clients what she practiced herself.

Although, she was certain none of her clients were looking at a table of wine, chips and dip, three pizzas, chicken wings, breadsticks, cookies, and brownies.

Elide was most excited for the brownies.

Rowan made them special, whatever that meant.

Which is why he was so pissed off when she and Aelin had kicked him out for the night.

Aelin had put some grapes in a bowl in the center of it all but Elide wondered if she really expected either of them to eat it. She loved grapes, loved most fruits, but it certainly did not meet the aesthetic of girl’s night.

“Okay,” Aelin announced, coming into the room in her pajamas. “50 First Dates or Twilight. The first is a classic but we laugh more at the second one. So.”

Elide laughed, falling onto the couch, still admiring the display on the coffee table. The sooner they chose a movie, the sooner they ate. “Twilight. Always.”

Aelin flipped through the stream until she found the movie and pressed play. After pouring two majorly full glasses of wine, they were finally able to indulge themselves.

Elide started with a brownie and felt no shame.

They were quiet for a moment, and it was only after Elide finished a slice of pizza that Aelin said, “Ro says Lorcan talks to you at the gym a lot.”

The statement was so out of the blue that Elide nearly choked on her breadstick. The mention of the man alone had her cheeks turning pink, and she had no idea why.

Other than the fact that she found him ridiculously, ruggedly handsome.

“I mean, sometimes,” she said, once the coughing had subsided. “If he happens to come in when I’m finishing up with a client, we might get a smoothie before he starts his workout.”

Aelin said nothing, just sipped on her wine, letting Elide sit in silence. Waiting. Knowing she would ramble.

And she did.

“We talk, but he’s just being friendly,” she added. “We’ve talked about his dad—”

She froze, not knowing how much of his past he’d divulged to her. Rowan may be his best friend, but that didn’t mean his girlfriend knew his story. It wasn’t her story to tell.

And honestly, Lorcan hadn’t tried to hide the fact that he and Aelin didn’t get along. They had a long-standing truce of neutrality for Rowan’s sake, but it stopped there.

She didn’t want him to be upset with her, if this was something he kept private. The gods knew she wouldn’t want someone idly talking about her traumas.

Roland had thrown them in her face, and would likely have reacted even worse than before if he knew that she’d talked to not only Aelin about what he’d done to her, but Lorcan, too. Because, gods, not only had he hurt her, he’d…violated her. He’d come back home and gotten back inside her right after he’d fucked that girl in the bathroom.

There was no way of knowing whether he’d used a condom or not, what he could’ve gotten from her, and in turn, given to Elide. The only reason she has any peace of mind was the test that had come back clean two days after she’d arrived in Orynth.

He wouldn’t want her telling anyone anything about what he’d done. She silently prayed he never found out where she was to find out if she’d kept silent.

“It’s okay, I know about his father,” Aelin said, gently, noticing Elide had locked up. “He gave Ro permission to tell me a long time ago.”

Elide blew out a deep breath, shaking off the thoughts of Roland that constantly felt like a shadow in the corner. “It’s just… it’s nice being able to talk to someone who understands, even under different circumstances.”

Aelin nodded, thoughtfully. She grabbed another slice of pizza out of the box as she said, “I’m glad you have him to talk to. Lorcan had a rough life and, although we butt heads, I know he’s a good guy and means what he says when he says he wants to help you in any way that he can. That’s genuine.”

Elide smiled at the thought. Yes, Lorcan has been genuine. Kind. And she had loved her conversations with him.

“You can talk to me too, you know,” Aelin added, quietly, and it was so rare for her to speak that way, timidly, that it immediately caught Elide’s attention. “I know that I don’t have any experience in that area, but I love you, El, and I am here for you. To listen. Whenever you need to talk.”

Elide gave her oldest, best friend a soft smile as she closed the distance between them by putting her hand on Aelin’s knee. “I know. And, thank you.” She nibbled on her bottom lip for a minute. “It’s hard talking about it with someone who has never been there, you know? I know you love me, Ace, and I love you so much, but there’s a…fear there.”

Aelin frowned, putting her hand on top of Elide’s. “A fear?”

Elide nodded. “That I’ll be judged. Or that… I don’t know. That, because you’ve never experienced it, that you can’t understand. That there won’t be…” Elide huffed, frustrated. “It’s hard to explain. And it sounds stupid, I know—”

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” Aelin said, quietly. “I get it. But, you know I’d never judge you. Elide, the only thing I care about is that you feel safe and confident and worthy. When you called me that night and I heard the terror in your voice…” Aelin’s eyes had turned bright, filled not only with tears, but white hot anger. Her hand on Elide’s tightened. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Every day.”

“You’ve gone above and beyond for me,” Elide said, turning towards her, the movie on the television forgotten. “You’ve let me come in and disrupt your perfect life and are helping me start over. I promise, I’m looking for my own place, I just need enough for a deposit on an apartment and—”

Aelin broke a piece of brownie off and stuffed it in Elide’s mouth, effectively shutting her up. “You need to quit acting like you’re a burden. You aren’t, to me or Ro. We’re happy to have you here as long as you feel you need to. Not because you can afford it, but because you feel comfortable being on your own.” Aelin shot her a sideways glance. “He’s becoming quite protective of you. If I didn’t know he was madly in love with me, I might be jealous.”

Elide shoved Aelin with her shoulder as she finished chewing her forced brownie. “Madly in love with you, he is. You have nothing to worry about. He’s sort of stepped into the big brother role I never had.”

But always wanted, was what she didn’t add out loud.

“I’m glad you can be that for each other. It makes me happy.” She smiled and laid her head on Elide’s shoulder. “Lorcan and I aren’t a very good example of significant others and best friends being amicable.”

Elide couldn’t help the laughter that tumbled out of his mouth. “I don’t know. He might surprise you. Somewhere deep down in there, he does care for you. At first, it may have been because you’re with Rowan, but now…he does care about you.”

Aelin snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

It was true. Elide knew it was true, but she didn’t bother trying to convince Aelin. She was as stubborn as she was loving.

“Seriously, El, don’t feel rushed to get out on your own. We want you to be safe, and feel safe.” She squeezed her hand. “You’re family, no matter whether you’re blood or not.”

Family.

Elide’s throat tightened as she hugged Aelin tightly. There were no words for the gratitude she felt for her friends and as she pulled back, she didn’t try to hide the tears lining her eyes.

Aelin didn’t either, but reached for her wine and said, “Come on, we have to finish this bottle of wine before Bella figures out he’s a vampire.”

Elide laughed, but raised her glass as they settled in, her heart lighter than it had been in days.

……………….

Elide was grabbing her bag after her last client of the day, ready to go home and relax, when Ansel, one of the other trainers, stuck her head in the door of the locker room. “There’s someone downstairs for you.”

Butterflies started in her stomach. Lorcan had been in for a workout with Rowan earlier in the day, and she wasn’t expecting to see him again. She wasn’t going to complain though, not when seeing him had become her favorite part of her day.

Even if she wouldn’t admit that to anyone, even Aelin.

“Thanks, I’ll be right down,” she smiled, suddenly very mindful of how sweaty she’d gotten during her last session. Manon was one of the few people she trained who wasn’t there for therapy, which means the workouts they did kicked Elide’s ass just as hard as Manon’s.

Ansel winked and headed back downstairs and Elide turned to the mirror along the far wall.

Hairbrush.

She needed a hairbrush.

And deodorant.

She dug through her bag until she found what she needed. After brushing her hair and pulling it back in a ponytail, she applied her deodorant and looked back in the mirror. Lorcan had seen her far sweatier and out of sorts, and he didn’t seem to mind.

Besides, she thought she looked cute as hell.

After slinging her bag over her shoulder, she hurried downstairs and crossed the floor. She was about halfway through the line of treadmills when she slowed to a stop. Her bag fell from her shoulder and hit the floor.

Elide’s feet were frozen in place.

It had been a little over a month since Elide had last seen him. It had been a little over a month since she had called Aelin in a panic, asking for somewhere to stay. It had been a little over a month since she had decided to stay in Orynth, hours away from him. Yet, there he was, standing in her place of employment, smiling and flirting with Ansel as if he was an old friend, stopping by.

His blonde hair shone beneath the lights and when he caught Elide’s eye, he flashed her a bright, toothy grin.

“Elide.”

“Roland.” His name out of her mouth felt wrong as terror shot through her body.

Suddenly, she was right back to where she had been that night, thrown across the floor, afraid she wouldn’t live to see another day. She couldn’t move her feet, couldn’t feel her body. She was paralyzed and the whole gym was there to witness it.

“Come on, Elide,” Roland crooned, meandering in her direction. “It’s been a while. The least you could do is say hello, ask me out for a drink, a chance to catch up.”

She was enraged and terrified, all at once. The fact that he could stand here, flirting with someone right in front of her, showed just how little he cared that he’d cheated on her. That he thought he could just waltz back into her life.

That he was here, in Orynth. Not only in Orynth, but where she worked. Relentless had become a sort of haven for her, a place where Roland didn’t exist in real life or in her head.

Yet here he was

“How did you find me?” She breathed, as he stopped in front of her, far too close than she was comfortable with.

Breaking eye contact, he bent down to where she’d dropped her bag and picked it up, looping it over his own shoulder. “We can talk about that over a drink. Let’s go.”

His hand closed around her wrist and she pulled back. “No.”

Desperately, she looked around for anyone that could help. It was almost eight o’clock at night, so very few trainers were left. Ansel had disappeared somewhere and the two others in the gym were focused on their clients.

“Let’s go, Elide.” His smile was still in place, but his eyes were chips of ice. “There’s quite a few things you and I need to talk about.”

He caught her hand. Threading their fingers, and clamped down, hard. Elide bit down on her cry of pain, her body rejected both fight or flight mode in favor of shutting down completely. She had no hope of wrenching her hand free, not as his tightened even more.

He began dragging her to the door and that panic in the pit of Elide’s stomach grew. She had made so much progress, had come so far, had started to feel free, and now here she was, right back to where she started.

But it didn’t last long.

Elide was still struggling to get free, was still trying to tear her hand free from his grasp when she heard her name.

“Elide.”

She looked over her shoulder as Roland came to a stop in front of her. His grasp on her hand tightened, painfully.

Lorcan stood there. His body was relaxed, his hands shoved into his pockets, but the look in his eye…it was lethal.

“Everything okay?” he asked, when it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything.

“We’re fine,” Roland began, and Lorcan stepped closer to them. “We were just going for a—”

“I was talking to Elide,” Lorcan interrupted, jaw locking. He looked at Elide and saw the panic, the chaos in her eyes.

She couldn’t speak. She was in a prison of terror and she hated it, hated this torturous feeling, hated that he had such a hold on her. She hated him, loathed this man, and yet she was unable to form a single sentence towards him. Elide’s eyes fluttered shut and she told herself to breathe.

She tried to yank her hand free, again.

Roland’s grip tightened.

Lorcan tracked it.

“I’m going to ask again,” Lorcan said, and when Elide opened her eyes once more, he was right beside her. “Is everything okay?”

She gave him the barest shake of her head and that was all it took for Lorcan to move.

It was clear that Roland had been expecting him to lunge towards him, to go on the offensive. So when Lorcan’s arm snapped out, wrapping around Elide’s waist and pulling her towards him, he hadn’t been ready. He lost his grip on Elide’s hand and Lorcan had her behind his back before Roland could react.

“Drop her bag.” It was clear that Lorcan’s words weren’t a request.

Roland’s grip on the strap tightened. His eyes left Lorcan and settled on Elide. “You and I need to talk, Elide. You need to understand a few things.”

“No,” Lorcan said, stepping forward grabbing the strap. “You need to understand something. I don’t know who you are, but I have a pretty good idea of who you might be. If that’s the case, you’ve got about three fucking seconds to drop her bag, turn around, and get out of this city.”

Roland dropped the bag, but he didn’t move, a smirk on his face. “I knew you were a lot of things, Elide, but I didn’t know you were a hypocrite.”

She was half hidden behind him, and her voice was far stronger than she expected it to be. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You left me, yet here you are. What was it you said to me?” His eyes had finally left Elide’s and were back on Lorcan. “Balls deep in some whore?”

“You need to back up,” Lorcan warned.

“Or what, hmm?” Roland asked, taking a step towards Lorcan. Elide had to admit that the asshole had courage. Lorcan stood about six inches taller than him, and he surely had a hell of a lot more muscle. Yet, Roland stood his ground. “What are you going to do to me if I don’t?”

Lorcan let out a low, humorless laugh. “I will make you regret that decision, very quickly.”

Elide noticed that Rowan was there too, now, standing by the front door with his arms crossed. His eyes were on Roland, unwavering.

Roland’s jaw locked as he looked from Lorcan to Elide. “This is ridiculous. Get your bag, Elide, we’re leaving.”

“Elide isn’t going anywhere,” Lorcan growled.

“Elide can make her own fucking choices,” Roland snapped, and Elide thought that was priceless. He never let her make her own choices, not without getting pissed off and throwing a fit.

Perhaps it was that reason that made Elide say, “I’m not going anywhere. Not with you.”

Roland took a step towards her but Lorcan didn’t allow it. Instead, Lorcan was shoving him backwards, and Roland nearly lost his footing as he stumbled backwards.

“I’ll call the cops,” Roland threatened, knowing this was a fight he couldn’t win. Trying to take the easy way out.

This time Lorcan’s laugh was more genuine, but darker. He reached into his back pocket, Roland flinching until he saw that Lorcan pulled out a small, black square, no larger than a wallet. Until Lorcan showed him what it was.

His badge, gleaming in the gym’s overhead lights. “Already here.”

Roland swallowed, his eyes flashing between Lorcan and Elide. Finally, he said, “This is your last chance, Elide. Come with me now or this is it.”

“It was over when you put your hands on me,” she said, stepping out from behind Lorcan. “I never want to see you again.”

Roland’s eyes narrowed. “You’re making a mistake. Him? Over me?”

“I’ll say it nicely one last time,” Lorcan said, voice promising violence. “Get the fuck out before I make you.”

Roland’s eyes darted between Lorcan and Elide before settling on his former girlfriend. “Elide?”

“I’m not choosing him over you,” Elide said. Her voice was quiet, but it was firm. “I’m choosing me, my life, what I want, and you are not a part of it.”

Lorcan said nothing, but he remained where he stood, planted between them, one hand holding his badge and the other flexing, opening and closing into a fist he so desperately wanted to use.

Roland was practically shaking. “This is—”

“One more word and I will grab you by the neck and throw you out onto the fucking street,” Lorcan growled, and Elide could tell that he was holding back. She had a feeling that if she wanted him to beat Roland’s ass, he would have.

And that was proven true when Roland made a move towards Elide, hand outstretched. He only made it a step before Lorcan had his hands behind his back and pressed up against the nearest wall. Lorcan held Roland’s body flat against it, unable to move. To his delight, Roland let out a yelp of pain from the impact of his face hitting the wall.

“Now,” Lorcan began, voice low, mouth only an inch from Roland’s ear, “I could beat your ass here and now, but I’ll stay civil. When I let go, you’ll leave this establishment and never return. Shit, you’ll leave Orynth and never return. Elide doesn’t want to press charges against you, and I’ve decided to respect that, even if it’s the last thing I want to do because it would make me so fucking happy to see your ass tried.” Lorcan shoved him up against the wall harder, and Roland grunted. “You leave and go home, and it will be the last you ever see of me, but so help me gods, if I ever see or hear that you’ve been around Elide again, I will have you behind bars right then and there. Is that understood?”

In an act of sheer stupidity, Roland muttered something under his breath and Lorcan asked again, “Is that understood?”

There was a quiet calm that had taken over Lorcan’s voice that rose goosebumps over Elide’s arms.

Roland swallowed, but said, “Yeah, whatever.”

“Good.” Lorcan released Roland, but by the time he spun around, likely deciding whether or not to swing, his eyes fell on where Rowan had made his way over to where Elide stood. His eyes were on Elide, even as Lorcan said, “One last time. Get out.”

Roland turned and started to leave, but said, “Not just one guy willing to play hero, but two? What a little slut you turned out to be.”

Shame, regardless of whether Roland’s words were true, washed over Elide, but to her surprise, it wasn’t Lorcan who moved. It was Rowan who grabbed Roland by the collar, punching him squarely in the face.

Blood sprayed and Roland cursed, falling back on his ass. Rowan grabbed one of the towels off the counter by the door, tossing it into Roland’s bloody face. “Get out of my gym.”

He scrambled to his feet, clutching the towel to his nose. He wasn’t looking at either of the men as he said, “You’ll regret this.”

“I doubt that,” Elide said. “Goodbye, Roland.”

He hesitated as he looked from Elide to Lorcan, then to Rowan before meeting Elide’s weary gaze. He shook his head and left, clutching his nose as he hurried out the door.

Lorcan watched him go, watched him get into his car and drive away before turning to face a trembling Elide. “Are you okay?” He whispered.

She nodded but it was a lie. No, she wasn’t okay but yes, she was at the same time. Having him show up in her place of comfort had left her feeling violated, but she had also said her piece. And having friends like Lorcan and Rowan there who stood up for her, who protected her… It made her feel whole.

Lorcan watched her, worry creasing his brow, but before he could say anything more Elide was coming toward him. She wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against his broad chest. He hesitated for a moment but then his arms were around her, holding her close to him.

“Thank you,” she said.

Lorcan’s arms tightened in response but Elide didn’t let go. She held onto him in the middle of the gym until she once again found her peace.

118 notes · View notes

gorl-power · 2 years

Text

Starting Over {Four}

Collab with @theladyofdeath.

Starting Over Masterlist

——————————

Chapter T/W: Mentions of previous abuse.

——————————

Lorcan caught the medicine ball with a grunt and tossed it back to Rowan, who was standing across from him. Lorcan had been working overnights and early morning shifts, and today was the first day he got off in time to come work out with him. And it’d been a week since he found out that Elide Lochan had been the one to hit his car.

There was something that had made him pause, even during that first meeting, as ill-fated as it was. Sure, she was gorgeous and something about the way she was so tiny, she could fit in his pocket brought him way more delight than it should have, but he was fairly sure that it was the fact that even though he knew she bore scars from what had happened, both physical and not, but she was still willing to fight. Still willing to start over.

That took strength. Determination.

When the medicine ball was thrown back in his direction, he had barely brought himself back to earth as he caught it. He needed to stop being so distracted. Medicine balls didn’t feel great when hitting you right in the gut, or landing on a toe.

“Why does it seem like your mind is somewhere else?” Rowan asked. “You’ve been distracted all day.”

It was true.

Rowan had nearly lapped him on their run.

“I have not,” Lorcan mumbled, throwing it back. “Long week at work. Long hours. I’m just tired.”

Rowan snorted, knowing he was completely full of shit.

They passed the ball back and forth a few times in that same companionable quiet before Lorcan asked, “So how’s Elide doing?”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed immediately. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Lorcan asked, as he dropped the ball at the end of their set.

“Elide is off limits,” Rowan said, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow. “And that’s not from Aelin, that’s from me.”

“That’s not why I’m asking,” Lorcan defended, crossing the gym to where his water sat.

As he took a drink, Rowan got the next exercise ready. “Really? You two looked pretty cozy at the bar.”

“I’m not interested like that,” he replied, his voice carrying a little more bite than he meant for it to. “In case you’ve forgotten, I have a bit more sympathy for her situation than I would for others. I’ve been there, and I know how lonely it can feel, even when you’re surrounded by people that care about you.”

Rowan didn’t say anything and when Lorcan turned around, he had the good sense to look somewhat ashamed. “I was just letting her know that if she ever felt unsafe, whether I was on or off duty, that she could call me.”

“You gave her your number?” Rowan asked, clearly not expecting that.

It was at that moment that Lorcan realized that no, he had not given Elide his number.

He could tell that Rowan was trying not to laugh as he asked, “How is she supposed to call you if she doesn’t have your number?”

He mumbled, “I thought you didn’t want her to call me anyways.”

Rowan’s grin widened as he shook his head. “I can give her your number. You know, just in case she needs you, officer.”

Lorcan shot Rowan a look that has made grown men back up, but it only made Rowan’s laughter louder. “Fuck off,” Lorcan muttered. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“Nice is the last word people use to describe you,” Rowan said.

Lorcan took one last drink before tossing his water aside. “I’m incredibly nice.”

“Nice and helpful are two different words,” Rowan noted, running a hand through his hair. “I believe you want to help Elide, I do, but I don’t think you would have told her outright that you were there to help her unless you found her attractive in some way.”

Lorcan’s jaw locked. “Jackass.”

Rowan gestured for him to head over to the free weights. “I’m not gonna pretend to know her entire story, and it’s not mine to tell. And you may mean well, but you’re a pretty intimidating guy.”

Lorcan picked up two fifty pound dumbbells and started curling them one at a time. “What do you mean?”

He wasn’t expecting Rowan to laugh outright and when he paused his set to stare at him, Rowan stopped and stared at him. “You’re serious? Look at yourself, man. You’re curling fifty pounds like it’s nothing and you’re, like, six foot seven.”

He was six-four, but that was beside the point. “I’m not dangerous.”

“You may not be, but that doesn’t mean anything to someone that doesn’t know you.” He nodded to the weights. “Keep going.”

Lorcan started curling again, grunting with each rep. “She has no reason to be afraid of me.”

“She may not have a reason to be but that doesn’t mean she won’t be,” Rowan said. Lorcan knew that he didn’t mean anything by it but that didn’t make the words any easier to hear. The fact that Elide could fear him based on his size alone upset him in a way he couldn’t put into words. He understood it, though, understood it all too well. His mother had been much smaller than his father, too.

Lorcan tried not to let it affect him but failed as he continued his reps.

Rowan sighed and stopped what he was doing to look at Lorcan. “It’s nothing against you, Lor. I just… I’ve gotten to know her these past few weeks. She’s been through some rough shit.” Lorcan opened his mouth to toss in his two cents, but Rowan cut him off. “I know you understand. I get that, I do. Create a friendship with her. Help any way you can. But I saw the way you looked at her the other night…just don’t try anything more.”

He could deny it all he wanted, but he found Elide attractive and intriguing. He wanted to know her, in all the ways that mattered, but knew it could be a long time before she even felt comfortable being around him.

He thought of how quiet she’d been at the bar the other night, when it’d just been the two of them. She’d been full of fire and bite when Aelin and the rest of his friends were at the table with them, but then it was just him and it was almost like she wanted to blend in with the booth. He’d thought she was just being shy, but maybe…

Maybe she was scared of him.

He’d have to figure out some way to show her his good intentions, that he wasn’t expecting anything from her, that he really did just want her to feel safe and protected.

He just wasn’t sure how.

………………

Elide watched as her client, who was recovering from a torn ACL, headed for the locker rooms. He was a football player, who’d blown out his knee in the final game of the season. He’d already gone through all the physical therapy, he was just trying to get as close to where he used to be as he could.

Most of the clients she’d picked up had all had some sort of major surgery. Thanks to her degree, Sellene felt she’d shine there, and shine she had.

“Hey.”

Jumping, Elide turned, dropping the clipboard she’d been holding.

Lorcan, Officer Salvaterre, stood behind her. When he noticed he had startled her, he hesitated. “Sorry,” he said, even though he stood a good four feet away from her. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Elide let out a breathy laugh. “No need to apologize. I hadn’t even realized I was standing here in la-la land.”

Lorcan chuckled. “Happens to me all the time. How’s your day going? I know Ren,” Lorcan said, nodding to where her football client had disappeared. “He hasn’t looked that good since before his accident. Looks like he likes you, too. His last trainer just kept pissing him off.”

Elide laughed. “His last trainer was Rowan.”

Lorcan grinned. “I know. They’re too much alike. They go way back, though. Have always bickered.”

Elide’s smile softened. There was something about Lorcan’s features that was hard, but welcoming. It was contradictory and hard to explain, difficult to understand, and perhaps that was why Elide couldn’t stop looking at his face, into his eyes. “Well, I’m glad to see he’s been improving.”

“Me too,” Lorcan said, then started rubbing the back of his neck. “So, I realized this morning that I told you that you could call me if you ever needed anything…but I didn’t give you my number. So, I thought I could do that. Or, you know, Rowan has it. You could get it from him.” A beat passed. To Elide’s humor, she almost swore he was faltering, stumbling over his words. “Or, you know, you don’t have to have it. I could…keep it.”

One of Elide’s brows rose as she bit her bottom lip. “You could keep your number?”

For a second, it looked like Lorcan had almost cringed, but then he nodded, slowly. “Yes.”

Elide stared at him for a moment, trying her best not to laugh.

“Well, I’ll just let you go—”

“I was just going to get a smoothie from the bar,” Elide said, unable to hold that laughter back any further as she gestured to the juice bar on the far end of the main floor. “Care for one?”

She could have sworn he was about to turn her down, could see the rejection in his eyes and was waiting for the sting to hit when he asked, “Have you tried mango, carrot, banana yet?”

Scrunching, her nose, Elide shook her head. “Absolutely not. Fruit only for me.”

They started walking through the gym and Lorcan laughed. “Oh, come on. You can’t even taste it. And what kind of personal trainer cringes at vegetables?”

“Well, I’m not actually a personal trainer,” she admitted, as they stopped at the counter.

Lorcan was puzzled by that, as it was evident that she was damn good at it.

They each ordered, Lorcan getting the aforementioned mango, carrot, banana, while Elide went with pineapple mango and vanilla protein powder. There were tons or options to mix in, from protein powders to pre-workouts to recovery drinks.

As they sat at one of the few cafe tables they had in front of the bar, Lorcan asked, “What do you mean you aren’t a personal trainer?”

“I got this job, thanks to Rowan and my own rigorous gym techniques,” she laughed, stirring her smoothie. “But I have my degree in sports medicine. I’m helping people now, helping to better themselves, but I want to help them feel better when they’re hurting. A sports or massage therapist.”

Lorcan watched her for a moment, thoughtfully. “You should talk to Sellene about integrating that here,” he suggested.

Elide smiled. “I did. I’m going to start massage therapy soon, after I get established with my clients.”

Lorcan nodded approvingly as their names were called out. He went to retrieve their smoothies and set them down on the table, Elide’s in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said, and fiddled with the cup. “What about you? You’re a cop.”

Lorcan blinked. “I am.”

She laughed quietly. “Do you enjoy it?”

“It’s all I have ever wanted to be,” he said, simply, taking a long drink from his smoothie. Elide had no idea how he could drink something so cold, so quickly.

“Yeah?” Elide asked, intrigued, sipping from her drink. “Since you were a kid?”

Lorcan nodded and something flashed across his eyes that Elide couldn’t quite place, but then he smiled tentatively. “Yeah.”

She thought he would go on but when he didn’t, her smile began to falter. “Sorry, I didn’t—“

“No,” he said, quickly, afraid he had offended her. “It’s okay, I just…let’s say my dad is a class A criminal of sorts. Growing up with him…” he shook his head, and Elide did not ignore the way he said dad. “It made me want to protect people from others like him. So, as soon as I got out of high school I got my degree in criminal justice, and then I joined the police academy at twenty-one.”

“Wow,” Elide breathed. “That’s…so brave.”

It seemed that whatever Lorcan was expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. His cheeks heated, just slightly, and he shook his head. “That’s not why I do it though. I do it for the people who can’t be brave themselves.”

Elide looked away from him, her eyes landing on her smoothie. She was quiet for longer than she’d been before.

“I said something wrong.”

Her eyes found his again, and she saw the concern there. Quickly, she shook her head. “No, it’s not that you said something wrong, it’s just… What Roland did to me, and my uncle, it’s not that I wasn’t brave enough to fight back.” She gestured between the two of them. “It’s a lot easier to fight back when you’re not five-one.”

Lorcan watched her and she swore she could hear the wheels turning in his mind. She took another drink of her smoothie, playing with the straw.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.” When she looked up, he was already looking at her. “You’re here, starting over, putting the shit that asshole did behind you, and moving on. That’s bravery in itself.”

Suddenly, Elide’s throat seemed tight and she doubted it had anything to do with her smoothie. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat, blinking away what he could’ve sworn was moisture in her eyes. “I did fight back, by the way. Against my boyf— Against him.”

The fact that she nearly called that piece of shit her boyfriend after everything he’d done had Lorcan seeing red, but he willed himself to try and forget the name Elide had mentioned a few moments before, before he made a dumbass decision.

Instead, he gave her a smile, one he reserved for people who deserved it, and said, “I know you did. You got out.”

102 notes · View notes

gorl-power · 2 years

Text

Starting Over {Two}

Collab with @theladyofdeath.

Starting Over Masterlist

The late afternoon sun was halfway across the living room floor when Elide opened her eyes. At first, she panicked, not knowing where she was, but then the aches and pains settled into her body.

And then she remembered.

She remembered where she was, who’s couch she was asleep on. She remembered why she was here, what Roland had done. She wouldn’t have thought cheating on her would be the lesser of his two evils from the last twelve hours, but she was sure she still bore the blood and bruises from the greater.

“Hey…”

Elide sat up, blinking blearily. She found Aelin curled up in a chair next to the couch, a worn journal in her lap. Aelin’s smile was warm but her bright, turquoise and gold eyes were lined with concern.

“Hi.” Her voice was more of a croak than anything else. Elide cringed. “Where’s Rowan?”

“He left,” Aelin answered, closing the journal and setting it to the side. “Wanted to give us some time. He figured you might need to talk.”

Elide swallowed roughly. She could only imagine what she looked like when she showed up three hours after calling Aelin. She hadn’t stopped once; save for filling up her gas tank twenty miles outside of Perranth. Stopping any closer was tempting fate, giving him time to catch her.

Standing from her chair, Aelin moved to the couch, sitting next to Elide’s blanket-covered legs. “You know you can stay here as long as you want, I’d do anything for you,” she said, gently, resting a hand on Elide’s calf. If she noticed the imperceptible flinch at her touch, she blessedly said nothing. “But I need to know what’s going on. Rowan’s best friend is a cop, and if he needs to—”

“No,” Elide interrupted. “No police. It’s… It’s over with now.”

The pause was tense before Aelin asked, “What’s over, Elide?”

She hesitated and, gods, the tears began again. Aelin reached out and when Elide took her hand, she moved closer, letting Elide rest her head on her shoulder.

Through the tears, as her body trembled, she told Aelin everything. She told her about the night before when he left for the club even though she didn’t want to go. She told her about the next morning and why she went through Roland’s phone. She told Aelin about the cheating and how she had confronted him on the way out the door, the supposed love of her life.

Then she told her about how he had reacted.

She didn’t stop there. She told her about how foolish she felt, how there were no warning signs, how she still couldn’t believe that he had hit her.

Hurt her.

“Hey,” Aelin said softly, but sternly. Elide met her gaze. “You have to know right now that the way he reacted is not your fault, at all. You shouldn’t feel foolish. No one could have seen that coming.”

Elide knew that, but it was nice of Aelin to say. She still felt foolish though, for putting herself in a situation that was so similar to the one she dreamt so long of getting out of. She couldn’t help it, that aching feeling in her gut that told her she should have known better.

“I don’t know what to do,” Elide confessed. “My life is in Perranth and I just…I disappeared.” That panic began again. Aelin’s hand tightened in hers.

“What’s tying you there?”

Elide blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Your life, what’s tying you to Perranth?” Aelin went on. “What’s keeping you from moving back to Orynth?”

She had no idea what to say. Not only because she wasn’t expecting the question, but because… Because with Roland out of the picture, there really was nothing stopping her.

“I’d have to email my boss.” Her words were quiet, because she couldn’t believe she was actually considering this.

“Rowan’s gym is looking for a trainer,” Aelin suggested.

“I’m not a personal trainer, though,” Elide shook her head. “Yes, I have a degree in sports medicine, but I’m a massage therapist.”

“You go to the gym almost every day,” she replied. “You could absolutely be a personal trainer.”

It made sense, she supposed, but she still hesitated. It was all moving too fast. Everything was wrong.

Yesterday she had woken up, ready to make the best of her day. It was supposed to be a day just like every other day, not a day in which her entire life changed.

The thought of going back to Perranth was daunting, though. Even if she stayed away long enough for everything to calm down, for him to calm down, could she ever feel safe there again?

She knew the answer to that.

If she were to go back, she would fear that Roland was behind every corner, was in every car behind her, was creeping outside of her apartment at night. Could she bear to live like that?

“Think about it,” Aelin went on. “I’m just saying…it might be good to start over, you know? And you wouldn’t be doing it alone. I'd be here, for one, and I have some friends that I know you’ll get along with just as well as I do. Ro could go get all your stuff for you even, help you move it. He wouldn’t mind.”

The offer was so kind, too kind, but Elide decided that everything she had left behind was lost. Perhaps one day she would be brave enough to go and retrieve it.

If he hadn’t thrown it away or burned it by the time that happened.

“I’ll think about it,” Elide promised.

“Good,” Aelin smiled, squeezing her hand. “Until then, you’re no longer sleeping on this couch.” When Elide hesitated, Aelin went on. “Guest room is upstairs. There’s a full bathroom just across the hall. It’s yours.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Elide said, quickly, knowing how serious Aelin and Rowan were getting. “If I do end up moving, I’ll have a place of my own in no time—“

“The guest room is yours as long as you need it,” Aelin said, gently. “There is no rush. You are welcome here.”

Elide looked at her oldest friend. She felt the comforting words that Aelin didn’t have to add. You are safe here.

“Why don’t you go take a shower, get cleaned up?” Aelin offered. “We can order dinner and have a sleepover like we used to.”

A quiet laugh left Elide, but Aelin could tell her heart wasn’t in it. It had been a long time since the girls had shared a sleepover, before both their parents had been killed. It had been over ten years and the two of them had never lost touch.

“I’d love that,” she nodded, pulling a throw pillow into her lap.

Aelin wrapped Elide in a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You go hop in the shower, I’m gonna run down the street to get us a bottle of wine and then we’ll get dinner ordered.”

“That sounds amazing,” Elide sighed.

As she stepped into the bathroom, Elide got her first good look at her injuries to their full extent. Her bottom lip was split, her cheek still swollen, but the split on her temple looked better than it had in the small mirror on her visor as she drove here. There was swelling under her left eye. As she removed her shirt, she could see two marks on her upper arms. Perfect matches to Roland’s handprints. As she swallowed, she turned around and glanced at her back, finding it just as battered and bruised as the rest of her body.

Elide turned away from the mirror, turning the water on and making it as hot as the handle would allow. After removing the rest of her clothes, Elide stepped under the spray, letting the spray sink deep into her skin, into her soul. She couldn’t feel the burn, couldn’t feel anything. She was so tired, yet she’d slept all day.

She closed her eyes, letting the water wash away the dried blood, letting it loosen her tense muscles. Was this what her life had come down to?

She sank to the bottom of the tub, laying back as the shower rained down on her. Maybe moving to Orynth wouldn’t be so bad.

A new start.

It was a tempting offer.

The thought of going back to Perranth was nonexistent. She couldn’t fathom it, not right now, not after all that had happened.

Elide stayed in the shower until the water became cold, until she heard Aelin gently knock on the door and let her know that she was back and dinner would be there soon.

Giving herself a few more minutes to settle in the misery of the last twenty four hours, Elide tipped her head back and let the brisk, biting water take away the sting of the burn from her anger and fear and… and disappointment.

Life could go on. Life would go on.

Roland may have been a big part of her life, a part of her past, but he would not be her future.

Pushing her heavy sheet of wet hair back off her face, Elide stood, knowing she may not be ready to face her new beginnings today or even tomorrow, that there would be time.

But that new future was waiting.

All she had to do…was live it.

……………………

As soon as Lorcan turned the shower off, he could hear his phone ringing from where he’d left it charging on his nightstand. Groaning, mumbling something about how he couldn’t get one night of peace and quiet, he slung a towel around his hips, not caring that he left a trail of heavy drips and droplets leading to his bed. He grabbed the phone, just as it went to voicemail, but he saw who had been calling him and heaved a sigh of relief.

It hadn’t been the captain or even his lieutenant, which meant it likely wasn’t something life threatening.

It was Rowan, which meant it still could be life-threatening, but the risk was much lower with his best friend than with his superiors.

Dialing him right back, Lorcan put the phone on speaker, heading back into the bathroom.

“I wasn’t sure if you were off yet,” Rowan answered, rather than greeting his oldest friend like a normal person.

“Just got out of the shower,” he replied, quickly drying himself off and getting dressed. “Thought you and Aelin were going to dinner tonight?”

Lorcan could practically hear the tension on the other side of the line thicken, but Rowan cleared his throat. “Yeah, change of plans. A childhood friend called and needed a place to stay for a bit. I’m giving them some time.”

“Is she in trouble?” The instinct to protect was unstoppable, which was why Lorcan had become a police officer. He wanted to help people, wanted them to know they were safe with him. His surly, outward appearance didn’t always reflect that.

He heard Rowan hesitate. “I don’t know the whole story. She was pretty hysterical when she called Aelin, and I left just after she got there. She was pretty beat up.”

Lorcan asked, “Is Aelin safe?” He didn’t particularly give two shits about his best friend’s girlfriend, but he didn’t want any harm to come to her.

“I wouldn’t have left the two of them alone if she wasn’t,” Rowan replied, and there wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice.

Lorcan huffed a sigh of contentment before asking, “And with them at your place, where is it you’re going?”

Rowan chuckled. “I’m ten minutes from your place unless you want to meet me at the bar.”

Lorcan fell back on his bed. If he stayed home, he could wear sweatpants and keep his feet bare. At the bar, he felt obligated to wear jeans but they had far better liquor.

And he could go to town on some chicken wings.

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” Lorcan said and hung up.

There were very few people Lorcan would give up a night at home by himself for. Rowan was one of them, especially since he was kicked out of his own house, however willingly.

He quickly dried his hair and body with his towel before hanging it over the bathroom door. He didn’t bother brushing his hair, a habit that drove his ex insane. There were just too many curls and waves and strands that went in the wrong direction to brush it every day. He preferred to let his shoulder-length hair do what it was going to do naturally.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up to the bar on the corner and spotted Rowan’s car, parking next to it and walking inside.

It was a Saturday night.

And it was packed.

He found Rowan with ease, thanks to their almost designated seats at the end of the bar. He knew that likely meant they frequented the dive a bit too often, but when he got to the open stool next to Rowan, a short glass of his favorite whiskey was waiting for him.

As he sat, he nodded to the owner of the bar, a man named Charlie he and Rowan had gotten to know over the years of coming here. He inclined his head in response and kept on wiping down glasses as other bartenders buzzed around him.

“Bet this isn’t how you were planning to spend your night,” Lorcan smirked, taking a deep drink from his glass.

Rowan chuckled, but shook his head. “I had very different plans, you’re right. You’re definitely not as pretty as Aelin.”

Lorcan flipped him off as Rowan blew him a kiss.

After a second, Lorcan turned to his oldest friend. “Are you worried about Aelin?”

Rowan shook his head as he took a sip and leaned against the back of the stool. His eyes were on the television above the bar. “No, she can take care of herself. And Elide.”

“That’s her friend?” Lorcan asked and Rowan nodded.

“They were best friends in elementary school,” he explained. “She moved to Perranth to live with her uncle after her parents were killed in a car accident, but they’ve stayed in touch.”

He took another drink and waved Charlie down. “And you said someone beat her?”

Rowan blew out a harsh breath and finished off his own drink. “I don’t know who or why, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t beat the shit out of herself.”

Lorcans mouth tightened. There were very few things he hated more than a man that laid his hands aggressively on a woman, if anything. It took a man with low self esteem and serious psychological issues to do that.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do, just let me know,” he said, at last.

“I’ll tell Aelin,” Rowan said, then added, “Thanks.”

Lorcan grunted as he nodded and only smiled when another glass of whiskey was set down in front of him.

They were quiet for a few minutes after that but it was comfortable. Lorcan was convinced it was one of the reasons that he and Rowan had become such good friends in grade school, and stayed such good friends as they grew older. Neither of them minded the silence.

With his eyes on the hockey game above the bar, Lorcan couldn’t help but think about Aelin and her friend’s situation. Abusive men were why Lorcan had wanted to be in law enforcement.

One in particular.

His dad was locked up when Lorcan was seventeen and he hadn’t seen or heard from him since. Every now and then, he would look up his fathers name in the database to make sure he was still behind bars. Ever since his mother’s death, he made it a vow to make sure he stayed behind bars.

He did not have one memory of his father that did not fuel utter terror. As a child, he had felt useless. Although Lorcan had always been tall and broad, he had gotten that gene from his father so the old man always had the upper hand.

He could still hear his mother crying, begging for him to stop but he never did. She was small, petite, frail and Lorcan’s father would put a WWE heavyweight to shame. He used his size to cause her pain.

Lorcan used his to kick the asses of men with that mindset.

“That was a dirty hit.”

Lorcan blinked as his eyes refocused on the game he hadn’t really been watching. He hadn’t needed to watch to know he hadn’t been referring to any of the Staghorns. “You know Adarlan always plays dirty.”

Rowan nodded, crossing his arms as he watched the players skate across the ice.

The two fell back into a comfortable silence, but Lorcan’s mind was spinning, worrying about a woman he’d never met, but who’s trauma he knew all the same.

124 notes · View notes

gorl-power · 2 years

Text

Starting Over {One}

Collab with @theladyofdeath.

——————————

Chapter T/W: Abuse and domestic violence.

——————————

Elide Lochan was exhausted. She’d stopped at the gym on the way home from work and as she climbed the steps to the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, she wanted nothing more than to take a long bath, have a glass or two of wine, and curl up in bed with a movie.

But she knew Roland would have different ideas, since it was officially the weekend. She loved him, even though they’d only been together for about nine months. He was fun and spontaneous and made her ridiculously happy, but he didn’t understand the need to decompress after a long week.

Unlocking the door, she braced herself and opened it, letting it fall shut behind her. “I’m home!”

He appeared from the hallway leading to their bedroom, a dazzling smile on his face. He was so handsome, with blue eyes that mesmerized you and blonde hair that fell in soft waves. Elide often wondered what he saw in her, how he had picked her over all the other beautiful girls they saw at the club every weekend.

That was how they’d met, at a nightclub off the old square in Perranth. He’d asked to buy her a drink, asked her to dance, asked her to come home with him. She’d said yes to all of it.

Nine months later, here they were.

“Missed you,” he said as he sent a text and shoved his phone into his pocket before meeting her at the door. “I was hoping you’d be here soon. Get ready.”

Elide snorted as she kicked off her shoes and dropped her keys on the entry table. “Get ready for what?”

“We’re going out,” he said, slowly. Apparently Elide should have known that, judging by his tone.

“Why?” Elide asked, and as she walked toward the kitchen he caught her in a hug.

“Because it’s officially the weekend,” he said, smiling. “Weekends are for going out.”

Elide closed her eyes, hating to tell him what came next. Roland was many things, both good and bad. Everyone had their faults, of course, but many of Roland’s came from his childhood, where he grew up wealthy and got everything he wanted.

Everything.

“I was hoping we could just stay in,” Elide said, hesitantly.

Roland frowned.

Elide quickly tried to make it better. “Come on, we never do Friday nights in. It could be so nice. I can make dinner and we can snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie…”

Her words trailed off suggestively as she ran her palms up his long, strong arms.

“Everyone is already on the way,” he replied, leaning back, even as his arms wrapped around her waist. “You know we don’t have to stay all night.”

She knew well that they would stay all night. Her feet hurt, she had a headache forming, and she had little interest in putting on the high heels he liked her to wear and listen to pounding bass for the foreseeable future.

“Just tell them I’m sick and I asked you to stay here with me,” she suggested, since it wasn’t completely false, but it also wasn’t completely true.

He raised one perfect eyebrow. “Are you asking me to lie to them?”

Elide hesitated, because yeah, she was, but she was also asking him to put her first, for once. His friends almost always came before her. It seemed like tonight would be no different.

With that thought, she sighed and pushed from his embrace and headed for the fridge, knowing she had a full bottle of wine in the door. “I don’t want to go out tonight. You go, have fun.”

There was silence for a moment, but as she opened the door and pulled out her cool bottle of wine, he scoffed. “So you can stay home and drink but can’t go out and drink?”

She calmly took a wine glass from the cabinet before opening the bottle. “I’m not going, Roland. I don’t feel like it and that’s okay. Go if you want to go.”

Another minute of silence passed before she heard him walking back down the hall and disappearing.

She told herself not to get too mad, that this was just how he was, but her vision still blurred red. She had the right to say no, and it pissed her off more than anything when he thought otherwise.

Twenty minutes later, Elide was seated on the couch, half her glass gone, when Roland came back in ready to go.

“Last chance,” he said, grabbing his keys and wallet off the table.

“Have fun,” Elide muttered, although she didn’t mean it in the slightest. There was a bathtub and romance novel calling her name and she had no shame in that fact.

Shaking his head, Roland headed for the door. “I’ll be home later. Don’t wait up.”

The front door slammed shut, harder than she expected it to and she got up, aiming for the kitchen. “Didn’t plan on it,” she answered, refilling her wine glass, regardless of the fact that he was long gone.

Silencing her phone, Elide left it in the bedroom, not wanting to hear it if Roland called to try and pester her into coming. She was fairly certain he was pissed off at her enough that he wouldn’t, but just in case, she wanted to enjoy her bubble bath in peace and quiet.

And for the night, that’s just what she got.

<.>

It was just after two when she blinked at the clock, just barely able to make out the numbers as she heard their front door open and close. Her anger had dissipated by the time she finished off her bottle of wine and her bath water grew cold. She wasn’t mad at him, just frustrated with his inability to understand that not everyone could handle a night out after a long week.

It didn’t mean she didn’t love him and it didn’t mean she wanted to fight.

Even if he thought otherwise.

Roland walked into the bedroom just as Elide rolled over to face the door. She could already smell the liquor on him as he approached with bright eyes.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, plopping onto the bed with a sloppy grin on his face. “Thought you’d be sleeping.”

“I was,” Elide mumbled, as he toppled onto her. “Your entrance wasn’t graceful enough to keep me asleep.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, then laughed.

Elide sighed, eyelids fluttering shut as she attempted to go back to sleep with her boyfriend splayed out across her. “Goodnight.”

He was so quiet for a moment that she thought he may have already gone to sleep, but then he quietly said, “I’m sorry.”

He was drunk. She knew he was drunk. Yet, the apology was nice to hear.

“About earlier,” he went on. “You had a long day. I was an ass.”

Elide didn’t bother telling him that he was right. He knew it already.

His apology wasn’t done, though, not as his hand swept up under her shirt and explored the many inches that he had already explored countless times. Five minutes later, he was deep inside her and she was right back to feeling that charming, wholesome feeling that she had felt every day for almost a year.

She awoke the next morning and silently snuck out of bed, letting Roland sleep off his hangover. She knew it’d be a couple hours before she saw him, so she planned to finish the rest of the book she’d started the night before and maybe even cook him breakfast. He’d well and truly made up for their fight the night before and she didn’t actually want him to be miserable all day. There was a festival in the square that afternoon and she thought it would be fun to stop by. There would be games and rides and messy, fried foods. Exactly what she didn’t need, but craved.

She compromised with herself, promising to put in an extra half an hour at the gym for each food she knew she shouldn’t have.

Going straight to the kitchen, Elide turned on the coffee pot and leaned against the counter as it brewed. After pulling down a mug, she silently padded back into the bedroom, snagging the book off her nightstand. She gave Roland a quick glance and smiled, loving the way his hair ended up messy as he slept. It was nice to see him like that, instead of the polished, unruffled look he was usually fond of.

The coffee pot beeped from the other room and Elide audibly sighed as she hurried back into the kitchen and filled her mug. As she crossed the room to settle into the pile of pillows on the couch, Roland’s phone caught her eye, face down on the coffee table, with his keys and wallet.

With an affectionate chuckle, Elide shook her head and reached for his phone. Roland must have been just as drunk as she suspected he was, if he’d forgotten to plug his phone in to charge overnight. She wondered if it was already dead and pressed the side button, lighting the screen up.

Elide’s smile fell as she saw what was on the screen. She blinked once trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

A text from a number he didn’t have saved.

Hope you made it home okay. Goodnight.

It was punctuated with three heart-eyed emojis.

She hesitated as her thumb hovered over the text message. On the one hand, this was Roland’s phone. She had no right to go through it, even as his girlfriend.

But. She was his girlfriend.

Convincing herself that it was likely just a text from his grandmother or an old friend, she was almost to the closed door leading to their bedroom when her steps slowed. She knew his password, he knew hers, they used each other’s phones all the time, but to look through his texts? It would be an invasion of privacy.

But Elide wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else until she knew who had been texting him goodnight.

Knowing she shouldn’t, she tapped on the unread message and thumbed in the password to his phone.

The message was the last in a short thread, starting around one in the morning. He’d sent the first text.

Justine?

Elide blinked. Who the hell was Justine?

Bathroom boy?

Her stomach roiled and she was thankful she hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.

I prefer Roland, but if that’s what you want to call me, so be it. She hadn’t replied immediately and he sent another text. I don’t usually make a habit of giving my number out, but you were too hot not to. I figured I could make an exception.

Justine replied much quicker that time.

I don’t usually make a habit of hooking up with strangers in club bathrooms, but here we are.

There were more texts back and forth, flirty quips and explicit requests for the next time they saw each other.

Roland had…cheated on her.

And then he had the audacity to come home and climb right back into their bed, right back between her legs.

And she’d let him.

Elide felt nothing, saw nothing, as she sat his phone on the arm of the couch, leaving the message thread open. She quietly opened the door to their bedroom, not even looking over to where he still slept in their bed, and reached the closet, pulling out a duffel bag from her college cheerleading days. Little by little, she filled the bag, opening drawers as silently as possible, until she was having to pick and choose things she’d have to leave behind for now.

Just as she was zipping the duffle, the bed creaked behind her.

“What are you doing up so early?”

His voice was rough with sleep and usually, that would have been all it took to have her crawling into his arms, to raise goosebumps along her skin in anticipation.

Now all it did was raise the hair on the back of her neck.

When she didn’t reply or move, he tried again. “Come back to bed, baby. Let’s have a lazy day.”

Elide tossed the bag over her shoulder and started toward the door.

“Elide.”

The bed creaked once more and Elide stiffened as Roland stood behind her. She slowly turned around to meet his curious gaze. He looked from her eyes to her bag, and when he met her stare again, his lips were tight.

“Where are you going?” He asked, in a deadly calm.

“None of your business,” she said, unable to stop the bite in her voice even though she had no idea where she was going. Away. That’s all she knew. “Don’t worry, though, as soon as I leave, you can call the girl from the bathroom to come amuse you in my absence.”

She let her words sink in, knowing they were pity, and watched as realization lit his eyes.

“You went through my phone.” It wasn’t a question, but he still watched Elide as if he waited for an answer.

“You cheated on me,” she breathed, hands shaking at her sides. “Is there always someone else? When I don’t go with you? Every time I’m not around, do you find someone to take my place?”

Roland’s jaw locked and rage consumed every inch of his body. Even as his muscles went rigid, as he took a step forward, those words of his remained eerily calm. “What you did was an invasion of privacy.”

“An invasion of privacy?” She barked a laugh. “You were balls deep in some whore—”

Roland’s hands were on her and before she could let out another word, he had her pinned up against the wall, duffle bag tossed to the side.

She could feel how tightly his grip was, couldn’t stop the sharp gasp of pain as her head cracked against the wall. Idly, she wondered if the plaster had busted on the impact.

“I can’t believe you would do that,” he growled, in her face. His teeth were bared and Elide barely recognized him. “I trusted you. Would you want me to go through your phone?”

Her head was still reeling and his grip tightened further as he shook her. Her head counted against the wall again. “I have…nothing to hide,” she bit out.

It happened so fast, she never could have seen it coming. The sharp sting against her cheek jerked her head to the side and her eyes welled with tears.

“And you were going to, what?” Roland asked, tugging her towards the bedroom and throwing her inside. “Leave me?”

She grunted as she rolled across the floor, crying out when the side of her head came into contact with something solid.

“Where were you going to go, Elide?” His words were soft as he crouched in front of her. “You don’t have anyone. Your parents are gone. No friends. Your uncle?” A harsh laugh brushed against her skin. “He’ll just bring you back to me.”

Her eyelids were feeling heavy and she swore she could taste something sharp and metallic in the back of her mouth.

Whoever this man was in front of her, he was not the man she had come to know, had come to care for, had come to love.

He approached her slowly, chuckling quietly, the sound unhinged, as he watched her struggling against the floorboards.

She had escaped abuse before, had escaped her uncle and the hell he had unleashed upon her in her teen years, after her parents had died.

She did not leave that situation only to get stuck in one similar.

Maybe it was her, she thought. Maybe she attracted the worst of the worst, maybe there was something about her, given to her naturally or by the gods, that drew men like her uncle, like Roland, to her.

She closed her eyes as he stopped at her feet and took a deep breath. She knew she was crying, she told herself to stop, but she couldn’t. He had blindsided her. Cheating on her was one thing but this? This was something else entirely.

She did not know Roland.

For months, she had been living with a stranger, had been loving him and fucking him and creating a life with him.

The realization of wasted time, of being made a fool of, of falling in love with a man who treated ger like a crumpled up piece of trash scattered across the floor had a jolt of strength flooding her body.

He leaned over her now, his breath hot against her jaw as he said, “An apology would be nice. Apologize, and we can get on with our lazy Saturday morning.”

His tone sent chills down her spine.

With all the strength she had left in her body, she jerked up her knee, hitting him right where she had hoped she would.

Roland cursed, dropping to his knees and Elide took the opportunity to scramble into the other room. Her head was spinning, but she managed to get on her knees and then her feet unsteadily. She knew there was a choice to be made. There was no way she was making it out the door with her phone, keys, and the duffle bag on the living room floor. If she didn’t get out of the apartment now, she wasn’t sure when she would.

Or if.

Her phone was on the low table in front of the couch, next to her still steaming cup of coffee. Her keys hung by the door, and in the split second decision, she pushed all of her strength into her legs, willing them to stay steady as she ran. Elide swiped her phone off the table as she heard Roland getting to his feet. She reached the door, throwing it open to the morning sun as his tall form filled the opening to the hallway.

She didn’t stop.

The second she was out into the hall of her apartment complex, she screamed, hoping it would at least make him think twice before following her out.

It did.

She slowed, her legs giving out, but she did not stop. She kept moving, yelling like a madwoman to let her neighbors know that she was there. Letting Roland know that they knew where she was.

She didn’t stop until she was in the parking lot, throwing open her car door, and falling behind the wheel, safely locking herself inside. She looked around as she began to hyperventilate, that panic settling in, the shock wearing off.

Roland was nowhere to be found.

She unlocked her phone, the world around her spinning and she started the ignition.

Aelin picked up on the first ring.

“Elide, do you have any idea what time it is?”

Her voice was thick with sleep, but she knew she wasn’t angry with her.

Elide couldn’t form words, the adrenaline wearing off and her world reeling. Everything was catching up to her. All at once, she felt the pain in her body, her head. Reaching up, her fingers grazed her temple and she hissed as they came into contact with something warm and sticky. She pulled her hand back and found blood on her fingers.

Roland had… He’d hit her. He’d done more than just hit her, he’d thrown her across the room, had slammed her against the wall hard enough to make her head bounce. Multiple times.

And he’d wanted her to apologize for catching him cheating.

Aelin’s voice floated over the line, but this time, worry coated every word. “Elide? Are you okay?”

A sob tore from Elide as she threw the car into reverse and started to back out of the parking spot.

“Elide, what’s wrong?” She could hear Aelin speaking to someone on the other end of the phone.

“I need somewhere to stay,” she rasped, looking in the rear view mirror and seeing a familiar form standing in the breezeway.

Gunning the engine, Elide pulled out of the parking lot as quickly as she could.

He didn’t follow now, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t chase her.

“You’re always welcome here,” Aelin replied, and Elide could hear the sincerity. “What happened?”

“He…” She stifled a sob. “I just need somewhere to stay. To…lie low.”

“Elide…”

“Please, Aelin.” She was on the verge of losing it, of having to pull over and risk him catching up to her. “I’ll tell you when I get there, just—”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she interrupted. “I don’t work today, I’m sending you my address. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” she cried, unable to catch her breath, eyes blurred as she tried to focus on the road ahead.

She said her goodbye and put the address Aelin sent into the GPS. Without another thought, Elide drove as quickly as she could to the interstate, and didn’t look back as she drove to her childhood best friend’s house, two hundred miles away.

From Perranth, to Orynth.

129 notes · View notes

gorl-power · 2 years

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The Viscount Who Loved Me {Five}

TVWLM Masterlist

An A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction, inspired by the first 2 seasons of Bridgerton.

Written alongside @snelbz

Ships: Nesta x Cassian x Elain (I said what I said) Feyre x Rhysand Elain x Azriel x Gwyn

Summary:

As the season begins, a new Diamond is named. She catches the eye of a prince whose feelings remain unrequited. However, the man who catches the eye of the Diamond remains off the market, refusing to get married as a jab to his late father. Meanwhile, the Diamond of the Season’s sisters have found themselves in a bit of a quandary. The elder is pushing the younger to get married to help her move on from the horrid disaster that happened last season, but in the process, the elder catches the eye of the younger’s match, even though she is considered to be an old maid and far past her time to be wed at the age of six and twenty. As they say, all is fair in love and war.

A/N: Let us know what you think! I always feel like this is the time that the story really gets going. BTW - send in prompts! I'm almost on summer vacation and want to try and fulfill a prompt every day!

Tag list is at the end. If you’d like to be added, please comment below or submit an ask. :)

Feyre wasn’t sure how she felt about Prince Tamlin of the Spring Court. He was a lovely dancer and his manners were immaculate, but there was something about him that Feyre just didn’t fully connect with. He would be a good husband, surely, but there were just no sparks.

It didn’t keep them from taking to the dance floor not once, but twice, which made every other gentleman in the ballroom green with envy.

By the time the ball was well into the night, Feyre was already exhausted from being charming and spun around the room.

Once she was finished with one lord, she hurried from the room before another could approach. Perhaps the patio of every home she graced would become her favorite place this season.

She was grateful as the fresh air greeted her but it didn’t last long, not as she bumped into a tall, familiar frame.

He braced his hands on her shoulders as he steadied her and Feyre looked up into Rhysand’s smirking face. “I’m beginning to think last time wasn’t such a coincidence.”

She stepped out from under his hands immediately. “I assure you it was, just as this was.”

He huffed a soft laugh as his eyes looked around at the few people with them on the patio, before they found hers again. “Good evening, Miss Feyre.”

She curtsied, unable to look away from him. “My Lord.”

He slid his hands into his pockets and turned towards the dance floor, a lively quadrille escaping the open doors as people spun by. “I would have expected you to be on the dance floor with your betrothed.”

Her cheeks instantly heated and she was shaking her head. “He’s not— The prince and I are not betrothed.”

Rhys hummed. “I don’t see him dancing with any other ladies of the ton. In fact, he seems to be speaking with Her Majesty. I wonder if he’s discussing your upcoming nuptials.”

White hot anger rose in Feyre at the tone of his voice, as if she were already Tamlin’s property after just a few dances. “I have not yet decided who I’d like to marry. As the Diamond, I have just as much choice as the prince does, do I not?”

Rhysand’s eyebrows rose at her own tone. “I guess you’re right.”

“I am right,” Feyre said, a sense of satisfaction over the fact helping her calm her anger. “Don't you have something better to do, my lord, than harass me about who I am to marry?”

“Harass?” He repeated, having the audacity to look offended. “And here I thought we were simply having a pleasant conversation.”

“Pleasant?” She asked, scoffing. “Pleasant like the other night when you so rudely left me without so much as a goodbye the second I introduced myself?”

That offended look vanished and was replaced with a spreading grin. “Ah, so you’re angry with me, then. Forgive me, Feyre Darling, I had no intention of offending you.”

Feyre was left gaping, caught somewhere between laughing about the fact that he believed he could so easily offend her or about the fact that he said her name so….nonchalantly. Flirtatiously. Offensively. Whatever it was.

“I was not offended, my lord,” Feyre said, although her tone surely said otherwise. She turned to look back into the ballroom, looking for either of her sisters.

“You could’ve fooled me,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Who’s trying to make an escape now?”

She hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close. People had to be staring. She wasn’t betrothed to the prince, or anyone for that fact, but for the two of them to be speaking in such close proximity…

She stepped away, turning back to him. “Are you trying to get people to talk?” She whispered, though her voice was so harsh it was hardly quieter than her speaking voice would have been.

Rhysand’s shrug was so irreverent, it was as if the movement were part of his soul, as he’d been doing it his entire life. “Let them talk.”

“Absolutely not,” she said, gaping. “My family has just managed to salvage our name after your refusal to marry my sister.”

“Oh, don’t try to put that all on me,” he waved her off, chuckling, as if she hadn’t just tried to wound him. And failed spectacularly. “Your sister was just as unwilling to marry me as I was her. And don’t take it personally, it was no slight against your sister or your family. I had no intentions to marry anyone that season or any season for that matter.”

Feyre blinked. “You…don’t?”

“Do you truly see me as a man that would make a fine husband?” He asked, his tone mocking. He didn’t give her time to answer. “There are people that are meant to marry, my lady, and people who are not. I know which one I am.” He let the words settle between them before he continued, quietly. “With that said, I’d like that kept between you and I. If the Queen found out, I would surely hear of it and as much as I adore Her Majesty, I prefer to keep my distance as much as possible.”

The amount of information he had just unloaded had Feyre at a loss for words. Feyre couldn’t imagine the Viscount never marrying, never producing heirs. What would become of his land? His fortune? His name?

“Now that you know of my intentions,” he continued, when it was clear that she wouldn’t be saying a word, “if you ever need a dance to appear as if you are doing something when you wish to be doing nothing, I hear I perform an excellent waltz. Good evening, Miss Feyre.”

He bowed and was gone, disappearing into the night as he had done before. She watched him go until he blended in with the darkness, utterly intrigued by the man she was learning the Viscount was.

He puzzled her, captivated her, infuriated her one moment and excited her the next. It made no sense. He made no sense. She had a thousand questions that she knew would be unladylike to ask, so she would not.

“Feyre!”

She turned towards the voice that called her name, finding Nesta standing in the open doorway. “What are you doing out here alone,” her sister murmured in her ear. “People could talk—”

“I wasn’t alone, there were others on the patio,” Feyre defended.

“Yes, but it doesn’t look good,” Nesta replied, with a sharp look. “Lord Helion has been asking about you, I believe he’d like to dance with you after Prince Tamlin.”

“The prince?” She asked, stopping and pulling her arm from her sister’s grasp. “Again?”

Nesta hushed her, looking around at the courtiers, stewards, and servants around them. “Of course, he’s been asking after you all night. If you play your cards right, if he comes to the house and we invite him to promenade with us, you may have a proposal by the next ball.”

Feyre’s swallow was audibly. “You really think so?”

Nesta’s eyes were bright. “I do.”

She let Nesta lead her back into the ballroom, to Tamlin, with his handsome smile and pretty compliments, which very well could be her future.

In a matter of weeks, she could be a princess.

She wasn’t sure why the thought was so disappointing.

<->

“Miss Elain, might I offer you a dance?”

Thus far into the evening, Elain had danced with a handful of older gentlemen that made her skin crawl so when Cassian Nazari came asking, she was relieved.

“Yes, my lord, it would be an honor.” Elain set her delicate hand in his massive one and let him lead her away.

Elain had always been fond of the quadrille. It was by far her favorite and Cassian was a lovely partner. Even though he was large and built far sturdier than other gentlemen, he was light on his feet and held a perfect frame.

“Tell me, Miss Elain,” he said as they began their steps, “what is it you do in your free time?”

The question caught Elain so off guard that she couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped her. “Well, my lord, I tend to my family’s garden. Gardening brings me peace. I feel this spring I have a lot to be proud of. You will certainly see all of my hard work when you attend our ball.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “Gardening? In the dirt?”

“Does that surprise you, my lord?“ Elain asked. “I assure you, I don’t mind a little dirt as long as I produce beautiful results.”

The smile he gave her was dazzling and she realized he really was quite handsome. “If someone as lovely as you is tending to the flowers, they have no choice but to be beautiful.”

Blushing, Elain ducked her head, but never lost her footing, lighting from one to the other. “You are too kind, my lord.”

“I assure you, Miss Elain, you are the most beautiful of all the eligible ladies this season,” he replied.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling up at him. “And you, my lord, what is it you do in your free time?”

“I’m a fair hunter,” he admitted and added, “I like to spend time outdoors, doing anything I can. I enjoy boxing, both participating and attending."

“I’ve never been to a boxing match,” Elain murmured, eyes wide. “My father says they're dreadfully violent and are no place for a lady.”

He laughed softly, not missing a beat as the song ended and a classic waltz began. “Well, he’s right. A sport where two men are meant to bloody each other up is rather violent; however, I know plenty of women who enjoy taking in a round or two every now and again.”

“I might just have to accompany you to one then,” Elain said, smiling up at him.

His hazel eyes were bright. “I’d be honored. Perhaps you cold join me for a promenade one day this week?”

“Of course, my lord,” Elain beamed. “My sisters and I love to walk by the Sidra after lunch.”

His eyes glanced around the room. “Speaking of your family, is he present tonight? I’d like to formally introduce myself to him, since I wasn’t able to at the Beddor’s.”

Elain shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. My father left for the continent last week. My sister is acting as my chaperone in his stead.”

The eldest sister, the one he’d heard so much about, yet still knew so little. Yes, he’d like to meet the former Diamond. To win her over would be to win the hand of her sister.

“If it wouldn’t be too much, I would love an introduction,” Cassian replied, spinning Elain around without losing sight of her eyes. “If she is to be the one I must win over.”

Elain’s cheeks heated, yet again. He was being awfully forward. Perhaps it was a good sign, perhaps it meant that there was hope for her to marry a young, rich man with a title after all. Otherwise, she would spend her days with a man thirty years her senior who smelled horrid and was losing his hair. “Of course, my lord.”

The second the song ended, Elain was being escorted from one side of the room to the other until she caught sight of her sister. “Ah, there she is.”

Elain took one step forward but beside her, Cassian had hesitated. When she looked up at him, his shoulders had gone rigid and shock was written on his face. “My lord?”

“Apologies,” he said, quickly regaining his composure. He said nothing more, though, not as Elain pulled him along further until they were standing beside Nesta.

Cassian watched as Nesta turned to meet Elain and the gentleman on her arm. The smile she had plastered on her face had faded as she looked into Cassian’s eyes and said, “My lord.”

“Miss,” he replied, shortly, bowing his head.

“Nesta, I’d like to introduce you to Lord Cassian,” Elain replied, smiling brightly. “He’d like to have an audience with you.”

Nesta’s chin was lifted higher, even as she curtsied. “It is an honor, my lord, to make your acquaintance.”

Cassian blinked. Fine, they would be pretending as if they had yet to meet, then.

“The honor is mine,” he replied, voice low. “Your sister tells me you are her chaperone this season. I was hoping to call this week. Perhaps join Elain for a promenade. She says you enjoy walking by the Sidra in the afternoons.”

“Yes,” Nesta replied, the word clipped. Elain’s smile wavered. “It would be lovely to have you join us, my lord.”

“This will be wonderful, maybe even Feyre and Prince Tamlin could join us,” Elain said, hopefully. Her excitement was mostly genuine but Cassian could tell she recognized the sudden tension and was trying to ignore it.

A man in his early thirties paused next to her and cleared his throat. Cassian looked down at the man and saw he was desperately trying not to make eye contact with him. He did his best not to smile.

“Lord Hopper,” she greeted him, curtsying.

“Miss Elain, Miss Archeron,” he addressed them both, bowing. His green eyes landed on Cassian. “Lord Nazari.”

Cassian gave him a smile that was more akin to a smirk. There was challenge in that smile.

He felt eyes on him and turned to find Nesta staring at him. He stared right back until Lord Hopped spoke again.

“Miss Elain, I was hoping to dance with you tonight,” he said, offering his hand. “I missed my opportunity last time and don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

Elain smiled, but it was not nearly as bright as it had been before. “Of course, my lord, I’d be honored.”

Placing her hand in his, Elain was whisked away before Cassian could so much as utter an objection. Instead, he turned to Nesta, grin already sliding into place.

She was gone.

“Miss Archeron?” He asked, looking around. He spotted her just as she reached the back wall, close to the refreshment table. He made his way towards her. “I’d like a word.”

“No, I don’t think you would,” Nesta said, reaching for a glass of wine.

“And why is that?” He asked, an incredulous laugh coloring his tone.

“Because the word is no.” She drank from her glass and stared him down.

Cassian blinked. “No?”

“No,” she repeated. “I wasn’t going to turn you down in front of my sister, but like hell am I going to let her marry someone like you. Someone who looks at my sister like he owns her when another lord asks to dance with her.”

That was rage simmering in those blue-grey eyes, eyes she shared with her sister. It seemed their Diamond status was not the only thing they had in common.

“Your judgment is clouded,” Cassian replied, simply. “You already had decided that you do not like me, when in reality, I am the ideal candidate for a husband. If you’ve not heard, I’m one of the most eligible bachelors of the season. I have money, land, and a title. And, I’m young and handsome. Do you truly wish to neglect Miss Elain of such a catch?”

Nesta stared at him incredulously as she shook her head. “Truly? I know what it is that you expect of a wife, and Elain deserves better.”

Cassian arched a brow as a grin appeared. “I knew you were listening the other night, in the bushes. You were spying.”

“You are impossible,” Nesta snapped, her voice low. “I do not give my blessing, and that is final.”

“Do you expect me to give up now?” Cassian asked, his expression suddenly serious. “I fear you do not realize how persuasive I can be when there is something I want.”

Nesta scoffed. “Something you want? Do you hear yourself? Elain is a lady that deserves love, not a prize to be won.”

“Love comes in time,” Cassian replied, simply. “We are high members of society. We are expected to marry quickly. Most couples know each other for weeks, at most, before a proposal comes. Love…” Cassian shook his head. “I will be a good husband, Miss Archeron, and you should not neglect Miss Elain of that.”

Nesta stilled as she watched, as she listened. Although she hated to admit it, most of what he said had been true, and his tone was sincere. “I will allow you one promenade, but that is not my blessing for you to marry my sister.”

The light in Cassian’s eyes returned. “I will call on Tuesday, then.”

He took Nesta’s hand and kissed the back of her gloved hand before bowing and taking his leave. Nesta watched him walk away as she sipped from her wine.

<.>

Azriel watched as Cassian walked away from Nesta Archeron. He had learned enough from Cassian and his previous conversation to connect the dots. Nesta must be the sister of Elain.

The thought was wild, surprising. From what he knew of the two Archeron sisters, they couldn’t have been any more different.

Yet, as Cassian walked away, something in Nesta Archeron’s eyes had Azriel’s heart feeling a little heavier than it had been before.

Unfortunately, he and Cassian had one thing in common. They’d drank the past seasons away, not yet ready to settle down and find someone to live their life with. Azriel just vaguely remembered the season Nesta had been crowned Diamond.

She had been eighteen, the same age as Rhysand, who had just truly inherited his title and lands. He and Cassian had just returned from their first year at the university. They’d all been at each of the events, though he and Cassian had usually found the most scandalous girls they could and snuck off into the night before their mama’s could catch them.

It seemed that Feyre was living the life Nesta may have once seen for herself.

He wondered what Nesta would do now, especially once her sisters were wed. The ton was not kind to unmarried women, not after they reached a certain age, and Nesta had passed the line. She could be a governess, Azriel supposed, as something told him that Nesta was the kind to be okay with a life alone.

He was okay with a life alone, too.

His was different, though, his reason. As a man, there was not an age that put Azriel off the market. He simply didn’t want to get married.

Or, perhaps, he wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t certain he would ever be, though. Ready.

His childhood had been less than ideal. His father had died young, leaving Azriel his title at an early age. Not being of age, however, his mother was left to run his father’s legacy. When she remarried, Azriel’s stepfather had acted as if he held the title, the land, and the money. He wanted Azriel and his mother as far out of the picture as possible, and he made sure to make that wish possible.

Azriel blinked, coming back to reality, not wanting to fall too deep into memories of the past. There was a certain line that, if Azriel passed it, would swallow him whole.

As he looked around the room, he couldn’t find either of his brothers, but he saw Elain, dancing the night away with one lordling or another. She had told him the other night that she enjoyed dancing, but watching her it was clear she loved it.

And you, my lord? Do you enjoy dancing?

He should have told her he did, he should have asked if she would honor him by allowing him to dance with her. Instead he’d lied.

I must admit that it’s not a strength of mine. I learned later in life.

His mother made sure his dances were impeccable, teaching him herself.

“So you can impress the pretty girl that catches your eye one day,” she’d said, as she taught him step by step. He could still see her smile, could hear her gentle reprimand as he stepped on her toes once again.

Even Cassian and Rhysand didn’t know.

Nor would they ever.

It was a secret Azriel would take to his grave, alongside a million others.

Watching as Cassian approached Elain on the dance floor and took her hand, kissing it softly, he added his feelings for Elain Archeron to that list as well.

65 notes · View notes

gorl-power · 2 years

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Some people are really tempting fate by continuing to push the pliable bones, “Elain can’t be with Azriel because she can’t have his kids” theory. Keep it up and Sarah is going to give them a breeding kink in their book.

Antis: Sarah doesn’t like Elain

Sarah: Elain would be my best friend

Antis: Elain is useless

Elain in ACOWAR: stabs Hybern, kills him, and saves all your favorites

Antis: Elain is boring

Rhys in the bonus: nope there’s more to Elain than being sweet and innocent. We just haven’t seen it yet

Antis: Elain let’s everybody do everything for her. She doesn’t care about anyone

Elain in ACOSF: helps the people of velaris rebuild their gardens and offers to find the DT even though it’s dangerous and tells them to come find her when they’re ready.

Antis: Elain and Azriel don’t like it each other. They’re more like siblings.

Elain and Azriel in the bonus: Azriel touches himself every night while thinking about all the ways he wants to make Elain come, fantasizes about what her face looks like when she orgasms, would beg on his knees for a chance to taste her. Elain gets wet and aroused by just him touching her neck and is ready to risk it all right there in the hallway with her mate upstairs.

Antis: Elriel won’t be together because Elain doesn’t have an Illyrian uterus and can’t give him babies.

Elriel in ACOTAR 5: both of them have a breeding kink, surprise pregnancy trope when Elain gets pregnant halfway through the book with triplets.

If Sarah wants them to have babies, they will. This is fantasy, where people die and come back to life. She can write whatever she wants. But continuing to push this idea that they can’t be together because she can’t have his kids is incredibly gross. I can’t believe I am still seeing this theory and people see nothing wrong with it. I hate pregnancy tropes and babies and kids in romance, but at this point I hope they have 10 kids so everyone will stop pushing this.

110 notes · View notes

gorl-power · 2 years

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Rendezvous {Elriel}

Oops, this was written for Week One of @elrielmonth, but Tara and I got hella busy. So enjoy this (late) oneshot and expect us to work on the rest of the weeks in the next coming days!

(Also, this story is will be continuing and turning into a mini-series. So look forward to that in the coming weeks, too!)

WC: 4728

Elriel Month. Week One. Forbidden Love.

Co-written with @theladyofdeath.

Elain sat across the table from Feyre, picking at the beautiful display of food that had been set between them.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry.

Her mind was just elsewhere.

It had been like that more and more lately, that scattering of her mind. One moment she was fully engrossed in conversation and the next she was thinking of him.

“Elain?”

Her eyes snapped up to Feyre’s and she realized she had been picking at a grape for the past few minutes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep the best last night.”

Feyre frowned. “Why not?”

She lied. “I couldn’t get comfortable. One of those nights.”

Feyre nodded, both because she understood and because she knew not to push. “I was just asking what you’re doing today. It’s beautiful out this morning.”

She shrugged a delicate shoulder. She was right, the late spring sky was calling her name. “I was thinking I might spend some time in the gardens. The peonies have bloomed and I was going to prune them back and make a bouquet for Nesta.”

They’d always been Nesta’s favorite flower, the fluffy buds making her smile even when the shadows crept into her eyes.

“You should join me on a walk,” she offered, stirring her tea. “I was hoping to take Nyx out into the Rainbow today.”

“That’d be lovely,” Elain mused, thinking about how Azriel had run out of charcoal the night before he’d been sent on a mission. She was sure Feyre would duck into some shop for something, would be swamped by the friend she’d made at her studio, and she could sneak off to buy a few pieces for him. “I can wait to garden if you’d like to go after breakfast.”

“That’s perfect,” she smiled, and Elain could almost feel the thread of power she unspooled to check and see if her sleepy infant was awake yet. Night personified, Nyx slept better than any baby she’d ever met. “Rhys is meeting with Azriel at the House of Wind this morning for a report. Gives us time to spend in the sun.”

Elain blinked, trying not to show any surprise or rush of emotion as she asked, “Azriel’s returned?”

“Just this morning,” Feyre responded, sipping from her mug. “Apparently, he had a rough couple of days. Rhys couldn’t even wait for the sun to come up before he was out of bed and getting dressed.”

It was the same any time Azriel or Cassian returned home after days away, without Rhysand. He had been staying in the city more and more while the other two went away to deal with the dark side of being a part of the High Lord’s inner circle. Elain had always thought Rhys felt a sense of guilt about it. So, every time they crossed back into the city, he was running to them.

“His love for his friends is inspiring,” Elain said, although she was thinking of something else, someone else, entirely.

Feyre was saying something in response, but Elain’s mind was reeling. A thousand thoughts, a thousand escape plans, ran through her mind. None of them seemed logical - or appropriate for sitting across the table from her sister.

“Elain?”

She blinked and looked up at her sister. “I’m sorry, you were saying something?”

“Your cheeks are flushed,” she said, eyebrows lowering in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she replied, reaching for her napkin on her lap and lightly fanning herself with it. “I must have overheated while I was working in the kitchen this morning.”

Since Azriel wasn’t in her bed, keeping her up until the Cauldron knew when, she’d been falling asleep and waking up earlier and earlier. Her own hand did the job, but her fingers weren’t nearly as skilled as Azriel’s. After she’d awoken before sunrise, she’d quickly wrung an orgasm out of herself and was in the kitchen covered in flour before even Nuala and Cerridwen were awake.

Feyre was watching her sister curiously. “If you’re not up for a walk, it’s okay. Nyx and I will just go. Or, we can wait a few hours. Let you rest.”

Elain continued to fan herself with her napkin, pretending to think, pretending to weigh her options. She loved spending time with Feyre, loved spending time with her nephew, but she wouldn’t be able to focus on a thing until she saw him.

“A few hours of rest may be helpful,” Elain agreed. “I’ll try to catch up on some of the sleep that I missed during the night.”

Feyre smiled. “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll take Nyx to see Nesta. He hasn’t seen her in a few days.”

Elain nodded, that guilt fading just a little bit. She had seen Nesta only the night before, so her absence would not be suspicious.

They finished their breakfast and Feyre headed up to the nursery to get Nyx ready for the day. Elain went to her own room in the river house, wondering how long she needed to wait until sneaking to the townhouse.

It had always been their place of refuge. Though Rhys and Feyre had given it to Elain after the completion of the river house, she often stayed with them in it. She often made excuses to stay there, so it wouldn’t be as obvious that she snuck off when Azriel returned home.

Every time he returned home.

She knew as soon as he was done speaking to Rhys, he would be making his way to the townhouse, either relaxing and sunning his wings on the rooftop patio or already waiting in their bed.

She certainly didn’t want to leave him waiting for long.

Freshening up, Elain listened as Feyre sang to Nyx as she got him up and ready for the day. Their voices passed her closed door and she heard Nyx babbling as they descended the stairs.

“Let’s go, my little love,” Feyre crooned and then Elain heard the front door open and close.

She waited for as long as she could, but was likely only a couple minutes before hurrying down the stairs, aiming for the front door.

“Elain?”

She halted, not expecting to hear Nuala’s voice from the direction of the kitchen. “Yes?”

“Would you mind helping us with the baking for dinner tonight?” The elder of the half-wraith twins appeared through the wall, something that should have unnerved Elain, but she’d quickly grown accustomed to. “Cerridwen has tried to replicate your braided bread, but it’s not nearly as neat as yours.”

With a quiet sigh, Elain nodded. Tying her hair back as she entered the kitchen, she glanced at the clock above the stove. It wasn’t even ten yet. She sorely hoped she saw him before dinner.

Pausing before the counter, Elain reached for a large ball of dough. She smiled at the two fae who were her closest friends and started kneading.

~~~

Azriel pointed to a cluster of trees over the continent for the third time. “It was impenetrable. Whatever is in this copse of trees doesn’t want me to see what it’s up to.”

Rhysand, no wings today, was lounging in a chair in the war room atop the House of Wind. Azriel had also gone over every note from his mission three times, and Rhysand still thought of something new to ask each time he finished, which spurred more questions.

Before he could ask anything else, Azriel started to subtly move towards the door.

Rhysand waited until he had nearly in the hall to ask, “Where are you going?”

Azriel didn’t hesitate. “I just got home, Rhys. I’d like to go down and bathe, considering I haven’t in three days.”

“Three days?” Rhysand said, scoffing. “That’s nothing. You’ve gone soft in your old age.”

It was true. They’d all gone far longer without the luxury of a bath, but little did Rhysand know that bathing was the last thing on his mind. At least, he wouldn’t be bathing alone. Azriel’s High Lord had made his demands clear when it came to Elain Archeron, and although Azriel had never gone against Rhysand’s demands before, this time…he couldn’t help himself.

She had always surprised him, always intrigued him, always captivated him, ever since their first meeting. And now, he couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without her in it.

Even if the life they had together remained in the shadows, their love ignited only in secrecy.

He made a move to leave the room again, the hallway beckoning before him. But he heard Rhysand say, “Az.”

He halted in the doorway.

Rhysand released a quiet breath, “After you’re done, let me know. There’s a…situation in the Court of Nightmares. We’ll fly down to the river house after you bathe and eat, Cassian will meet us there. I’ll fill you in after you’re done.”

“It…can’t wait?”

There was silence between the two males. It was rare when Azriel questioned his High Lord, but it had been over two weeks since he’d seen Elain, since he’d been inside her…

“We captured one of the mortal queen’s personal guards sniffing around the borders between Day and Night,” he confided. “Helion has given us free reign to deal with him as we see fit, to find out why he was on our lands.”

They will deal with him, Azriel thought, but his hands would be the ones covered in blood at the end of it all.

Reluctantly, Azriel nodded before dismissing himself.

An hour later, he was trailing behind Rhys, Velaris growing larger as they flew closer and closer. His eyes settled on the townhouse a few blocks away from the sprawling manor they aimed for now. He wondered if she was already there, already waiting for him. He would fly to her as quickly as he could, as soon as this matter in the Court of Nightmares was handled, as soon as he’d washed the blood from his skin.

They both landed smoothly on the grass of the back lawn, and as they approached the house, Azriel noted the slight differences in the garden from when he’d left. The peony bushes had bloomed as beautifully as Elain had hoped they would, the irises and lilacs as well.

Rhysand opened the glass door leading into the house and followed Azriel inside as he held it open for him.

The scent of baking bread, intertwined with a delicious scent of honey and jasmine.

Sniffing quietly, Azriel knew Elain was not waiting in the townhouse for him. She was only a few rooms away, but Rhys was leading him towards his private study, where he knew Cassian was likely waiting for them both, Amren as well.

Azriel halted in the middle of the atrium. “I’ll be right there.”

Rhysand paused, hand on the door frame.

“I’d like to get something from the kitchen,” he said, hoping Rhysand wouldn’t push him, that he didn’t realize who was in the kitchen. “I’ll just be a moment.”

One minute, he just wanted one minute with her, to kiss her, smell her, taste her… Nuala and Cerridwen would make themselves scarce, especially when they saw the look on his face. The two half-wraiths were the only two who knew of their secret.

Rhysand looked at him for a beat, that passive look that he gave to the enemies he played games with but Azriel could see right through it. “Be quick.”

Azriel nodded and strode down the hall until he was pushing open the kitchen door.

Only to find it empty.

Well, empty of Elain, anyway.

Mor stood by the counter, cutting off a piece of warm, fresh bread. She popped it into her mouth and moaned. “Mmm. They’ve done it again. Delicious.” She looked to Azriel. “Always nice to see you back in one piece.”

“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full,” he said, simply, crossing his arms.

She rolled her eyes. “Have some bread.”

He did, angrily eating it as he hurried from one side of the manor to the other, to Rhysand’s study.

There was no sign of her anywhere.

~~~

It seemed Elain would be stopping by Nesta and Cassian’s riverside apartment after all, since Cassian stopped her as he headed for Rhysand’s study and told her that her sisters and Nyx were waiting for her there to go get lunch.

She nodded, forgoing the bouquet she planned to make in favor of getting there sooner. Maybe, if they finished with lunch quick enough, she could make an excuse to stop by the townhouse…

She knew her sisters would offer to come along, would offer to help with whatever excuse she came up with to go there.

“What’s on your mind?”

Elain had been tapping a manicured, pale-pink fingernail on the table top. Nyx, sitting in his mother’s lap, was reaching for her finger. She slid her hand towards him, letting him wrap his own chubby hand around her finger.

Nesta had been the one to speak, a cup of tea still held between her hands.

Shaking her head, Elain returned to the conversation. “Nothing. Just didn’t sleep well. You were telling me about the new priestesses who’d begun training when we had dinner last night. How was this morning?”

Nesta’s eyes, their mother’s eyes made over, lit up. “The youngest of the three, Mira, hasn’t spoken to a male in over three centuries. She’s making amazing progress, not just with training.”

And so their lunch went, Elain’s mind on the townhouse across the city, Nesta and Feyre animatedly talking and playing with Nyx.

Elain tried to be engaged, but she couldn’t shake off thoughts of Azriel - where he was and what he was doing.

She saw her sisters often, could be with them and talk to them as much as she wanted. Azriel, though, she only got a few miniscule moments with a week, if that.

“Elain?”

She had to stop spacing out.

“I’m sorry,” she said, yet again, and mustered a smile as well as she could. “What we’re you saying?”

“I wanted to show you and Nesta the new pieces at the gallery,” Feyre went on, eyeing her sister suspiciously. “If you have the time and energy, of course.”

Elain was conflicted.

She knew it meant a lot to Feyre. She also knew that if she said no, Feyre’s suspicion would grow. Yet, the townhouse awaited.

“Perhaps for a few minutes,” she said, at last. If only she had wings and it wasn’t a twenty minute walk to the gallery.

They began the walk, the day gorgeous and not a cloud in the sky. The kind of day she knew someone with wings would love.

People waved at Feyre as they walked, some at Elain, and even some at Nesta. An artist Feyre had been working with from the Brush and Chisel approached and began speaking with Feyre, both smiling down at Nyx as he rode along in his little stroller.

Nesta fell back, walking next to Elain. She could tell her sister wanted to say something, was going to pry as soon as Elain glanced over at her. So she kept her eyes on the approaching Rainbow, the blues and greens and reds beautiful and pleasing to the eye.

It worked for a moment, but not for long.

As they rounded the corner, the gallery within view, Nesta asked under her breath, “You okay? You seem awfully on edge.”

Her tone intended that she already knew Elain was not, in fact, okay.

“I just didn’t sleep-.”

“That’s shit and you know it,” Nesta mumbled. Elain swore that the more and more time her older sister spent around her mate, the filthier her mouth became. She could only imagine what Nesta would be spewing out of her mouth in a hundred year’s time.

Elain wasn’t sure how to respond. If she could tell anyone about Azriel, it would be Nesta. Nesta would understand and she would never say a word. Yet, the words wouldn’t come out. They formed perfectly in her mind, but they couldn’t find their way out.

Nesta eyed Feyre up ahead of them, saying hello to a vendor on the street. She stopped and gently grabbed Elain’s elbow, causing her to halt.

Elain couldn’t meet her eye.

“If you’re in trouble-.”

“I’m not,” Elain promised, and she must’ve sounded convincing, because after a minute, Nesta dropped it. “I’m not, I’m just feeling a little…off today.”

“And is there a reason for that?” Nesta pushed, sneaking a glance to look at Feyre to make sure she was still occupied.

Elain shook her head. “No reason. Now, let’s go look at these gorgeous pieces of talented sister created and choose which ones we should decorate our homes with.”

She looped her arm through Nesta’s and led her towards Feyre, then towards the gallery where she could ask no more questions.

~~~

Azriel sat at a large oak desk in an office deep beneath the living quarters in the House of Wind, oiling one of the many blades piled atop it. His brothers had just departed and he wondered how long was appropriate before bolting from his office and flying down to the townhouse. Looking at the clock in the wall, he saw that dinner was in a mere two hours.

There was no way he’d be able to do what wanted with her in less than two hours, especially considering Elain was probably helping to cook the delicious meal they’d be consuming. It was the first time their entire family, Mor and Amren included, would all be in the city in over a month. He was sure it would be a massive spread of food and Elain was likely already toiling away in the kitchen, flour on her face, the hair at the nape of her neck curling slightly from the heat.

They often did that while he was inside of her, both of their bodies gleaming with sweat—

He groaned, realizing he had become uncomfortably still.

And uncomfortably hard.

Maybe he did have time, maybe he would take her quickly now and again tonight. Maybe she could spare ten minutes for him to just give her a taste…

Azriel threw the dagger onto the desk in front of him and sighed.

This was torture. He had too much energy building up and none of it was healthy without a release. After cleaning another blade, he hurried up to the roof and trained, all by himself, until the minutes turned into hours and he decided it was time to bathe for the second time that day.

He wondered if Elain had tried to see him as much as he had hoped to see her that day.

After scrubbing off his sweat and stench, he pulled on a simple pair of pants and a matching shirt, leaving the comfort of his armor at home.

He walked instead of flew, allowing the extra time to help him clear his mind. With them all together, he couldn’t allow a hint, a scent, of his attraction to Elain to show. The more and more time they spent together, the harder that endeavor became.

By the time he made it to the manor, he was not only starving but perfectly calm. He could already smell the food, could hear his family gathered together. Surely, he was the last to arrive.

Hopefully no one had any questions about it.

Although, he assumed Cassian and Mor would, and they were not shy asking those questions, loudly, with everyone present.

True enough, Azriel was the last to arrive. Everyone met him with mixed greetings - some of excitement and some of it’s about time.

His eyes scanned the sitting room, looking for Elain, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Dining room,” Feyre announced, and Azriel could practically hear her stomach growling. “If I don’t eat now, I won’t be so pleasant here soon.”

“And you’ve been pleasant for the past twenty minutes?” Cassian mumbled, taking Nesta’s hand as they followed Feyre out of the sitting room.

Feyre shot him a vulgar gesture before disappearing out of sight.

Azriel was in the back, getting his usual glances from Mor, as they all walked to the dining room and took their places around a long, narrow table.

Elain arrived then, carrying a plate full of rolls, breads, and muffins. “Don’t wait on my account,” she said, voice rushed.

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment and he knew that she’d been trying to get to him as desperately as he was trying to get to her. Her cheeks heated immediately, and she looked down at the dirty apron she wore, wiping it off. Rather than take it off or change, she took her seat in between Feyre and Cassian, digging right into the dish of garlic roasted green beans in front of her.

Rhysand’s eyes were wary, watching his sister-in-law, but he nodded. “It’s nice to all be under one roof again.” He looked at Azriel and Mor respectively. “Let’s enjoy each other’s company tonight.”

I plan to, Azriel wanted to say aloud. Wanted to, but couldn’t.

He found Elain’s eyes and saw the same want, the same need reflected there. Her gaze darted to the door leading to the kitchen. She was suggesting they sneak away, suggesting that, despite the presence of their entire family, they disappear into the kitchen together.

Cauldron boil him, there was nothing he longed for more.

He shook his head, enough that she noticed, but anyone else would have thought he was annoyed by the way his hair skimmed over his forehead.

Ignoring the disappointment in Elain’s eyes was easier said than done.

A sudden guilt crept over him for the fear of disappointing her alone, but he pushed it down as he shoved a forkful of vegetables into his mouth. He ate quickly, avoiding conversation, but no one saw that as anything out of the ordinary.

The only thing out of the ordinary was that Azriel would not look up from his plate. Typically, he loved having dinner with his family. He lived for nights like this. Tonight, however, the second he looked up he would look at Elain, and he would once again be weak.

She made him weak.

It wasn’t a complaint, but she couldn’t make him so weak when there were witnesses.

It had been a long time since someone had such control over him.

And it had never been with someone he was forbidden to see.

As Feyre and Rhys took Nyx up to bed, Cassian opened a bottle of good bourbon in the sitting room. He poured a knuckles worth for Nesta and then himself and held the bottle out to Azriel.

“I think I’d like to take a walk,” Elain said, talking to no one in particular. “It’s been such a beautiful day, I can only imagine the clear night will be stunning.”

She was out the door before either Mor or Nesta could offer to join her.

He knew exactly why.

Cassian stared, the bottle still outstretched. “That was…”

“Strange,” Nesta finished for him, narrowed eyes on the spot where Elain had just been.

Cassian’s eyes fell on Azriel again. “Drink?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight. I have some reports I need to go over after this afternoon.”

This afternoon.

Cassian had been there while he’d cut and torn and ripped the information out of the mortal queen’s guard. It had amounted to little, but he knew his brother wouldn’t push him.

He nodded briskly once and raised his glass in farewell. “Right.”

Azriel didn’t bother to say goodbye to his High Lord and Lady, instead slipping out the door and into the balmy night. He could see Elain just ahead, already heading down the hill towards the townhouse. He could easily catch up to her, easily scoop her in his arms and fly them directly to the townhouse. There was a chance someone would see, would talk and it could eventually reach Rhys. And if he followed her, trailing behind, if she entered the townhouse before he did, it would be clear they were meeting.

So instead he’d beat her there. Azriel took to the sky, letting her hear the wing beats he usually kept silent as a gentle breeze, letting her know he was heading for the townhouse.

And he would be waiting for her.

~~~

Elain walked slowly through the streets of Velaris, fighting the urge to run. It was a long walk but nothing out of the ordinary. The streets were always busy at night, beneath the starlight. Elain was just another peaceful civilian, enjoying the calm, warm night.

She nodded to those she passed, smiling in greeting as an exchange.

It only took a minute to see an Illyrian overhead, heading in the same direction she was.

Elain absentmindedly picked up her pace.

With each step, her heart grew wilder, beating ferociously inside of her chest. Just the thought of being near him in a matter of minutes was enough to consume her.

She made herself stop at a shop or two, even going so far as to buy a box of sea salt caramels, covered in dark chocolate. It was just a few moments, but it delayed her further, so that she was just a passing buyer, shopping on the way home from dinner.

And then the townhouse was in view, a welcoming orb of faelight glowing in the foyer. She knew she’d extinguished all the lights when she’d last left and she increased her pace as she let her grin grow.

She was through the iron gate, barely acknowledging the bite of it in her grip, and then she was up the stairs and pushing the door open. The antechamber was open to the foyer beyond and it was…empty.

She listened quietly for a moment, hearing nothing, before she called out, “Az?”

The soft press of his lips on her throat would have scared her, had she not gotten used to his shadows and the way he was prone to step in and out of them without a thought. “I’ve tried to get here all day,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her from the back.

Leaning back into him, Elain relished in his warmth and the feel of his lips on her skin. “I have, too,” she admitted. “Everyone needed something—”

“And it couldn’t wait,” he finished for her, loosening his arms so she could turn to face him. “It had to happen then.”

“Exactly.” She was rising up on her toes, eyes closing as she waited for him to kiss her.

“What’s in your hands?”

Elain’s eyes opened and she was grinning, even if she hadn’t gotten her kiss yet. She pulled the box from behind her back. “I stopped at the confectionery down the hill. They had just finished making a fresh batch of these.”

His hazel eyes were sparkling and she could have sworn he was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Chocolate caramels?” He asked. Elain only nodded and let him take the box. His fingers grazed hers. “These are my favorite.”

“Are they?” She asked, voice cool and amused.

He breathed a laugh, knowing that she knew that fact fully well. “Thank you.”

Her smile grew as he set the caramels down and slowly slid his broad arms around her waist. For a moment, neither of them said a thing. They simply looked into each other’s eyes, silently, dwelling in the moment that they finally found for one another after such a long day.

“I missed you,” he said, at last, and it was hardly more than a whisper but it made chills sweep down Elain’s back, her arms.

She knew that the time he spent away was no vacation, was no holiday away from the real world. When he was away, his time was spent doing horrible things that Elain could not fathom.

Even if it did support the greater good.

“I missed you, too,” Elain said, but before she could get out the last word, Azriel’s lips were against hers.

The kiss was soft, sweet, genuine, but Elain knew exactly where it would lead.

Her arms went around his neck, their bodies pressed up against one another in safe comfort as that kiss deepened. For the first time that day, Elain relaxed.

She could finally do so as she melted into the arms of her forbidden love.

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gorl-power · 2 years

Text

Between Light and Shadow

(Banner by the lovely @sncinder 💕)

Elriel’s story after ACOSF

I can’t believe this is the end 😭 Thanks to everyone who’s read this story every week and left me incredible feedback. Here’s to the next adventure!❤️

Word Count: 1018

AO3

Chapter 32

Elain cooed, pulling her hands away from her face as the chubby-cheeked baby in Azriel’s arms giggled wildly.

“Stop that. He doesn’t know what’s happening,” Azriel chastised as Nyx silenced once she hid her face once more.

“It’s a game, love. People play this with babies all the time. See? He loves it.” Riotous laughter echoed around the meadow.

Keep reading

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gorl-power · 2 years

Text

The Viscount Who Loved Me {One}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction, inspired by the first 2 seasons of Bridgerton.

Written alongside @snelbz

Ships: Nesta x Cassian x Elain (I said what I said) Feyre x Rhysand Elain x Azriel x Gwyn

Summary:

Tag list is at the end. If you'd like to be added, please comment below or submit an ask. :)

Dear readers,

I heard a rumor that a certain rake with a capital R is looking to wed this season. Luckily for one cunning young lady, he's incredibly wealthy.

Handsome, too.

And are those not the qualities one looks for in a husband?

Yours Truly,

The Suriel

Cassian hadn’t slept a wink even though the woman beside him was out cold and had been for hours. As it neared dawn, he decided it was time to take his leave, even though he was perfectly comfortable wrapped up in the blankets of Tanwyn’s warm bed.

Leaving was always the hardest part but he thought it better to do before most of the ton was up and going for the day. Even though they all knew he was a Rake, he preferred to keep his reputation on the down low.

And by that, he preferred to let the people of Velaris think whatever the hell they wanted about him as long as they talked about him behind closed doors.

After sliding out of bed, he tugged on his trousers, boots, and shirt before throwing on his jacket and stuffing his vest into his satchel. The three coins didn’t so much as clink as he set them on the table in the corner. With a final glance at the sleeping form in the bed, he tugged his hat over his long hair and was out the door. He’d have to have a trim before the first event of the season, so as to not gain the wrong kind of attention.

Even in early spring, it was brisk so early in the morning. Cassian huffed out a breath as he headed down the street, sticking his hands into his pockets, for what little warmth they offered. After buying a paper from the boy on the corner he was on horseback, trekking from one side of town to the other.

There was a shortcut through the park, which he found both useful and lovely first thing in the morning. Although a fog had settled over the fresh, green grass, there was something ethereal about an empty park that Cassian had never grown tired of. He took his time, riding slowly through the open field.

It was the perfect time to let his thoughts roam.

It was mad to think that in a couple of months he would be a married man. After his upbringing, it was all Cassian wanted: to find a wife and have children. His parents had died young, passing along a title that Cassian didn’t get to truly claim until he was much older.

He had it all, though. The money. The title. The houses.

Now he just needed a family to share them with. He’d always wanted children, had always been fond of the idea. Finding a woman to carry those children, however, had been an impossible game in itself. It wasn’t that he had been picky over the previous years, but settling down and pinpointing one woman had been a challenge.

He liked women.

He liked to fuck.

He liked the freedom but knew that he could not have both. Now that he was getting older, it was time.

This season, he would find a wife.

And she must be the best that the season had to offer.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in the fresh morning air as his horse meandered on. He thought about going to Rhysand’s but it had been a few days since he’d been home. He should probably check in on things, should probably make sure all was in tip-top shape if he were to be having any sort of guests soon.

As he approached a hill on the far side of the meadow, he went left, opposite of the river.

He’d just started to yawn when he heard it.

A horse whinnied and raced past him. He hadn’t even realized that there had been someone nearby.

Especially not a woman.

Alone.

But the skirts beneath the cape of the hooded rider were unmistakable and if it was, indeed, a lone woman…

“Miss?” He called after her. The rider continued on.

Cassian dug his heels into the side of his mare and picked up his speed, following the woman, yelling for her to stop, calling to see if she was in trouble.

She didn’t even give him a glance.

After a moment of the chase, Cassian came to the conclusion that she was not in trouble, but it only made his curiosity grow. He begged his horse to run, but she could not compete with the beast ahead.

He tried again, “Miss!”

She turned back to look at him at last, her hood catching in the wind. He saw a flash of golden brown hair and then she was off again, urging her horse forward, faster.

He swore quietly, seeing that she was riding for the edge of the park. Steering his horse around the copse of trees she’d ridden into, Cassian hurried to see if he could make it to the large fence around the park before she did. He reached the fence in just a few moments, and heard the hoofbeats of the woman’s horse soon after. She was riding at a much more acceptable pace now and as Cassian rode up beside her, she jumped, the hood of her navy cloak falling from her braided hair.

She looked at him and he couldn’t quite pinpoint the look in her gray-blue eyes. Anger, with a hint of mischief.

“Good morning,” Cassian said, simply, deciding it was a reasonable way to begin a conversation.

“Do you always follow women at dawn in the park?” she replied, causing Cassian to second guess everything he had ever known about women.

“Pardon?” he asked, and her eyes never wavered from his. “Women do not ride alone at dawn. Where is your chaperone?”

“And who are you to ask of my chaperone?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “Surely, a man who cannot win a simple race should not be asking such entitled questions.”

“A race?” Cassian repeated, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “That was no race.”

“Yes, it was, and I won,” she replied, chin held high. “Although, you cannot blame yourself for your loss. It is your horse. She is old.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment before laughing, yet again. “I assure you. If it was a race, I would have won.”

“If it was not a race, then why were you following me, sir?” she jabbed, keeping her eyes on the path ahead as they began to ride.

“I feared you were in trouble,” he replied, unsure of how to react to a woman being so forthright. “I have never seen a woman riding without a maid, especially so early in the morning. It is almost as if you do not wish to be seen.”

“Perhaps I don’t,” she replied. “I did not intend to run into anyone. As for my safety, I promise you that I had the situation under control. My safety should be of no concern to you.”

Cassian could not help the laugh that tumbled out of him, yet again. “Very well. I will not tell a soul of this encounter.”

“I am most grateful,” she replied, and dipped her chin in his direction.

“It’s purely for my benefit,” Cassian went on, and he heard her scoff. The simple sound excited him. “If people were to know of this encounter, could you imagine the questions they would be asking me?”

“Ah, so this becomes about you?” she said, and Cassian shot a glance in her direction. Her eyes remained on the path ahead, but her eyes were lit, her chin raised high. She opened her mouth to say something more, but then she froze. Cassian followed her line of sight and noticed a pair of gentlemen riding in the distance.

“My apologies,” she said, and steered her horse in the opposite direction. “Good day, sir.”

“Wait,” he protested, attempting to turn around but by the time he did, she was hurrying away. “I didn’t get your name!”

She didn’t even look back as she rode away and disappeared over the hillside.

<.>

Feyre Archeron took a deep breath as she stood before the doors to her father’s study. She’d been expecting the conversation any day, had heard her sisters discussing it when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. What they hadn’t realized was that she was often listening when others thought she was absorbed in her art.

What about those ships to Behret, Elain had asked, during dinner one night, when their father had been at the gentleman’s club. Father said the gold from one of the ships on that endeavor alone would cover not only my dowry, but also Feyre’s, and yours, should you choose to marry.

Marriage.

It was not that Feyre didn’t want to be married, didn’t want to be a wife, but the thought was daunting. It was especially daunting considering neither of her sisters were married. Somehow, even though she was the youngest, it seemed that Feyre was the most likely to get married first. She had no idea how it happened, or why, but it was not her place to complain.

“You may come in.”

Her father’s voice echoed in the hallway beyond.

She rarely saw her father. He spent so much of his time away on business that the girls had come to know life without him, and had gotten used to it. It was almost stranger when he was home then when he wasn’t.

Feyre pushed open the doors to her father’s study and entered, smiling as she did so, even though she felt no joy. “Good morning, father. It’s nice to see you home so soon.”

Isaac Archeron smiled - at least, he smiled as much as he could. Feyre swore that she never saw a genuine smile on her father. At least, not since she was old enough to remember such things. “You look beautiful, my dear.” There was only a slight pause before he said, “The season is starting soon. Are you prepared?”

Straight down to business, then.

“Yes, sir,” she nodded, clearing her throat. “Nesta has made sure my dances are impeccable and my pianoforte is—”

“I don’t know how we managed to make it out last season with our name unscathed,” he interrupted, looking back to whatever document he was signing. “After the mess with Lord Harding last year, I hope your sister is a little more cunning to her fellow ladies.”

Feyre didn’t speak, waiting to see if her father was done. It seemed he wasn’t.

“Your sisters are to go to the modiste today,” he said, folding his hands over his desk, paperwork forgotten. “You will accompany them. It’s time to lower your hems.”

“Yes, father,” Feyre nodded, curtsying slightly. “If that’s all, I’d like to take an hour or so to paint before we go.”

“Painting is not a useful skill, darling,” her father said, looking back down at his papers. “You should practice the pianoforte for a while if you have a moment.”

“The pianoforte-.”

“That is all,” her father interrupted.

Her dismissal.

“Good day, father,” she said, before turning towards the door.

“Feyre?”

She stilled although she never gathered the strength to turn and face him, once more.

“You are expected to present yourself in front of the queen in a week’s time,” he said. “Do not embarrass our family. You are our greatest hope.”

There was a lot she wanted to say to her father in that moment. For one, she wanted to tell him that he was being far too dramatic. The world did not revolve around her, nor did their family. Feyre knew that both of her sisters had the same chance of finding a husband to carry on their legacy.

Perhaps it was that that had Feyre turning to face her father, once more.

“Is everything alright, father?” she asked. “You seem disturbed.”

Isaac frowned, stilling at the papers in his hands. “I do not wish you to worry.”

“Is there something you’re worrying about?” Feyre pushed, knowing she shouldn’t, but not caring. “If so, you should not carry the burden alone.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he repeated, clearing his throat. Between one breath and the next, he’d flipped the papers in front him over, his pen forgotten. “Now, you said you had some painting to do. Off to it then.”

A second dismissal. She was not tempted for a third. With another curtsy, Feyre was leaving the study, passing by stewards and servants alike, aiming for her bedroom to change into something more suitable to paint in.

“Feyre!”

Wincing, she came to a stop as she heard the voice of her eldest sister at the bottom of the stairs. She turned from the hallway she’d been headed down, finding not only Nesta awaiting her in the foyer, but Elain, as well.

“We’re to go to the modiste today, did father not tell you?” Nesta asked, tugging a pair of gray gloves on as Elain held a fan delicately in her hands.

“He did,” she replied, bracing a hand on the curved wooden railing, “but I was under the impression we were to go in a few hours.”

“We’ve had to move our visit up,” Nesta said, imperious as always. “We’ve heard rumor that Lady Harding is planning a visit later this afternoon as well, and we’d prefer to not be in her company.”

Elain flinched at the name but none of them commented on the matter. They didn’t dare. Elain had just come out of her dark hole of despair, they wouldn’t do anything to force her back in.

“Very well,” Feyre said, begrudgingly. “Allow me a few minutes to get ready.”

Nesta gave her a tight lipped nod before Feyre was hurrying from the room to collect her gloves and hat.

Going to the modiste was the last thing she wanted to do, not only today but any day. She would, though. For her sisters, and their father. They had all been through too much for her to complain, so she wouldn’t.

She would go try on dresses and have them fitted to perfection.

She would prance around the ton, put on a show that none of them could criticize.

She would marry a man whom she did not love to uphold their family name, even though it was not the desire of her heart.

She was a woman.

It was her duty.

Considering her sisters failed at theirs, it was now on her shoulders alone.

<.>

“What do you think about blue?” The modiste asked, after Feyre had shot down fabric after fabric for her dress to the upcoming ball. Madame Amren was the most popular modiste in town by far, and she was known for her lavish, exquisite gowns. Both Nesta and Elain had settled on fabric, cut, and embellishment, while Feyre couldn’t even decide what color she should wear. She went on, “With your sisters in dove grey and amethyst, a blue gown would be very complimentary.”

“How many blue gowns have you made for the ball at the Beddor’s next week, Madame Amren?” Feyre asked, glancing at the floral fabric she held in her hands. The silk was far better suited for Elain.

A beat of hesitation. “Quite a few, miss, but—”

“My sister is right,” Nesta interrupted, from where she and Elain were admiring her new mesh fabrics for gloves. “She must stand out before Her Majesty, but we must also look good as a household.” She regarded the yards of fabric along the walls. “What about navy? Do you have any silks in a navy coloring?”

“Navy is not a color typically worn during the season, Miss Archeron,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “It is usually made into velvets and wools, for winter—”

“But do you have any in silk?” Feyre asked.

“Of course,” Madame Amren said. “But, only a select few.”

The sisters remained as Madame Amren hurried into the back.

Elain cleared her throat, about to tell Feyre she’d made a good choice, and tell her about the time she and another eligible lady had shown up in the same shade of rose pink last season, when the bell above the door chimed. Amren had just returned from the back, three silks of darkest blue in her arms and set them down on the low lying table next to the dais Ferye stood upon, pins still nearly pricking her skin in some places as Madame Amren took her most recent measurements. “Excuse me,” she said, nodding to the ladies and hurrying to the front of her shop.

Elain froze as she heard her greet her customers. “Lady Harding, Lady Beddor, Miss Clare, how may I help you?”

Nesta and Feyre’s eyes met and they both looked to where their sister was now staring at an unfinished gown across the room, scarcely breathing.

The conversation blurred as Elain’s ears began to ring, and far too loudly, she was certain, she announced, “Excuse me. I need some air.”

She did not wait for anyone to protest as she fled, even though she knew Nesta reached for her hand before she hurried out the front door and onto the cobblestone streets of Velaris.

After hurrying around the side of the shop, she leaned against the brick wall and closed her eyes.

Breathe, she begged herself. In and out.

Her heart was nearly ready to beat out of her chest. The whole reason they had moved their appointment to the morning was to avoid such confrontation. Not that Lady Harding would care that Elain was in her presence.

It wasn’t her that had her heart broken, but Elain’s,

Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes and for a moment, she wanted to scream, wanted to curse, but did not.

She continued that steady, deep breathing until her heart quieted down.

How pathetic I am, she thought, and her cheeks grew red. She did not want to go back in there, she was too embarrassed.

Miss Clare, Graysen’s betrothed, was most likely having a grand ole time, seeing Elain in such a state.

Graysen.

Even his name clanged through her, making her regret every moment they’d shared together the season before. He’d courted her almost the entire season, asking to add his name to her dance card at the very first ball after her coming out. Unfortunately, she was already full up for the evening, but the next morning he was calling on her at their home. He brought her the most beautiful flowers, every time he saw her. Whether it was a bouquet for her dinner table or a single, elegant rose at a ball, Elain’s heart fluttered every time she saw him. He’d taken her out for promenade after promenade, Nesta a dutiful chaperone at all times.

But at the penultimate ball of the season, at Graysen’s family’s own estate, when she’d expected that he was to finally ask for her hand, his father had announced his son’s engagement.

To Clare Beddor.

While Graysen had been courting Elain, their budding romance clear for all of the ton to see, Lord Harding and Lord Beddor had come to a business arrangement behind the scenes.

Elain had never been so humiliated, heartbroken, and devastated. In an instant, the future she’d imagined, the life she saw for herself as Graysen’s wife… It was gone.

She and Nesta hadn’t attended the final ball of the season, lest she have to face Graysen, apology and pity undoubtedly written across his face, or worse, Clare herself.

The smirk Elain had spied on Clare’s face had told Elain they’d made the right choice in not attending.

Once her heart had calmed, once it no longer felt like it would beat out of her chest, Elain pushed herself off the wall, smoothed down her skirts, and began to walk back toward the street.

It was bustling, every citizen of Velaris out and about, preparing. All the members of the ton had somewhere to be. In a matter of days, they would also begin to be displayed like prizes for one another.

The sun was out, bright and welcoming, which was rare for an early day in the Spring. It was lovely, though. Elain tossed her head back and dwelled in the warmth just as she rounded the corner of the shop.

And ran into something - or, rather, someone.

A very unladylike noise flew from her mouth, something between a gasp and a yelp, as she grabbed her hat to keep it from falling off of her head. She took a step back, her heart back to beating wildly within the confines of her chest, and found herself looking into the face of a young gentleman, perhaps a year or two older than herself.

“Oh, my apologies, sir,” she said, the words tumbling ungracefully from her mouth. “I should have been paying attention to where I was going. The sun is just so lovely. It distracted me.”

At first, she noted the crimson rising on his tanned neck, above his collar, but he soon gave her a gentle smile. With a respectful incline of his head, he said, “I should be the one apologizing. I was not paying attention, myself. I am afraid I was in a bit of a hurry and it was clouding my judgment.”

Elain couldn’t help her polite smile from spreading. “It looks like we are both at fault, then. Perhaps we both deserve a little grace?”

“That would be nice,” he said, and went to move around her but frowned before looking down at his fingers, which looked to be coated in charcoal, then to Elain’s sleeve. “It seems I may have gotten your dress dirty. Here, let me-.”

“Hmm?” Elain followed his line of vision, spotting the dark gray smudge on her sleeve. He took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and reached for her arm, then stopped.

“May I?” he asked.

Elain swallowed but nodded as he reached politely for Elain’s arm and dabbed at the stain. It grew lighter, but didn’t disappear. Elain took her arm back, hastily, and cleared her throat. “It’s quite alright. I’ll see that it gets removed. Thank you, Mr….”

“Draeven,” he replied, when it was clear she was waiting for him to supply his name. “Azriel Draeven.”

It almost seemed like he was uncomfortable providing his name, but he said nothing more about it.

“Lady Elain Archeron, my lord,” she said, feeling foolish for not recognizing his status before. She recognized his name. He was a baron. She curtsied and he returned it with a bow of his own. “A pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he assured her, an exchange that Elain had already had a million times in her life. Yet, this time, it nearly seemed like he meant it.

Men rarely meant such things.

A horse whinnied from the carriage out front of the modiste.

A carriage, Elain realized with a start, belonging to her family. She could already see Nesta in the carriage, a fan keeping her from roasting within the velvet-lined landau.

“I should be going, Lord Draeven,” she blurted, starting for the carriage. She stopped, curtsying and inclining her head.

“Please, call me Azriel,” he replied, and Elain swore she saw him cringe, just a bit. “Titles are… Well, I prefer my given name to my family name.”

She hesitated, but nodded. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Azriel.”

He waited until she’d hurried for the carriage, watching as she turned and looked at her one last time before climbing inside. Softly, so quiet no one but himself could hear, he repeated, “The pleasure is all mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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gorl-power · 2 years

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A Bun of Truths - Part 2

Hello, my lovelies! Happy @elriel-month! 💙🌸🦇 We're going to start out celebrating with a bang. And by bang, I mean this monstrosity of a chapter, the Part 2 for A Surprise Bun. This 14k word fic is a hot mess, I won't lie. I've fought with it for weeks, but it fit the prompts for Week 1 of EM and so, here we are. 😂 Grab yourself a snack and a drink, you're going to need it.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

A Surprise Bun - Part 1

Trigger warnings: language, minor adult descriptions

Word Count: 14,458

It had been just under a month since Az had come home from a mission and found out Elain was pregnant with his child. A month since his entire world changed and he had this small glimmer of hope within his small grasp that perhaps, just perhaps, he might finally get his happiness.

The last four weeks had been utter bliss. He and Elain cocooned themselves in this little bubble, barely leaving except for their daily tasks and gathering things from the market. When they were together, most of their time was spent in bed, or on the counter, or the table, or the nearest wall, or wherever he could take her. Elain’s heightened sex drive was a delightful surprise and gave him a run for his coin if he wanted to keep up.

Az cooked breakfast and dinner for her every day unless she couldn’t avoid dinner with her sister and Rhys like him, and only once had sent her running for the bathroom from a smell—a roasted vegetable in a spiced sauce. To say he felt awful was an understatement, but Elain simply waved him off, telling him that this was a part of the territory. Learning what set her off and what didn’t.

Today, however, was a bad day.

Elain woke up, ashen colored, sweaty, and nearly hurled in bed before launching herself into their bathing chamber, barely making it to the toilet before losing the contents of her stomach.

There wasn’t much he could do other than sit on the floor behind her, hold her hair back, and dab at her face and neck with a damp cloth.

She leaned back into his chest, her body shivering from the force of her vomiting. “It’s never been this bad before,” she said weakly.

He tucked her tighter against him, resting his cheek on the top of her head. His body wrapped around hers, providing her as much comfort as he could offer her during her sickness. “I think we should contact a healer.”

Her fingers traced along his bare forearm, over the scars that extended up from his hands. “You know we can’t. Not yet.”

She had been adamant about not seeing a healer until they told everyone, afraid that word would get out and Rhys would learn of the baby and them before they would have a chance to explain. To tell them themselves. He had seen how afraid she was; for him, for their child, and dropped the subject. But seeing her this sick worried him.

“I know you’re scared, El. But this morning sickness is unusual for you and I’m concerned.”

Elain twisted herself so she could look up at him. “I know you are, Az. But I promise you if I felt like something was wrong, I’d tell you to bring one here immediately. I’m just nauseous and tired. I think I slept poorly last night, which doesn’t help. Let me get some ginger tea in me and see how it goes?”

He nodded, leaning down to kiss her lips, but she stopped him with her fingertips. “I just puked. Forehead, please. Until after I brush my teeth.”

Az didn’t argue, though he truly didn’t care at this point. He just wanted her to feel better. Dropping a tender kiss on her head, he gently helped her stand. “I’ll go start your tea and some breakfast while you freshen up. What do you want to eat?”

She scrunched her nose up at the talk of food. “Dry toast, please.” It was something she and Feyre discovered during her pregnancy. Placing a slice of fresh bread over an open flame on the stovetop to crisp it up. And then slathering it up with butter. It became a staple during their breakfast when she didn’t make a pastry of some sort. “Maybe some fresh berries with honey?”

“Coming right up.” He gave her another kiss on her cheek, leaving a swarm of shadows with her to help her and make sure she didn’t collapse on herself.

He definitely ignored the muttered “fussy hen,” when she noticed the dark cloud hovering around her and went to make breakfast for the two of them.

~~~

Elain managed to eat a slice of toast and three bites of fruit before she pushed the food away and focused on her tea. He’d normally try and convince her to eat more for the baby, but he knew better than to push her today. Not when she was still pale enough to be compared to the peaks of the snowcapped Illyrian Steppes.

He hated seeing her like this. It set him on edge and worried him beyond his normally level-headed self.

A warning bell sounded in the townhouse, sending Azriel lurching from his seat and placing himself in front of her, a threatening growl emanated from his throat. His wings snapped out, covering her from view in either entrance into the kitchen.

“Az,” Elain murmured, a delicate hand touching his to calm him.

The couple waited with bated breath for whoever had arrived to enter the house. So far, they’d been able to avoid any unexpected visitors. But it would appear that their time had run out—and just a day before they intended to tell everyone. He bristled, shadows flowing out of him in search of who arrived. Maybe they would get lucky and it was Feyre.

Mor even. He could trust her with this, knew it down to his soul he could.

But luck had never been his friend.

“Easy, my shadow. A fight will not end well.”

He knew she was right and settled at her words. If Elain hadn’t been so ill today, he wouldn’t have been so touchy, likely would’ve hidden in the shadows until whoever showed up, left. But he was tense today. And that primal part of him was reeling inside to protect, defend.

A shadow curled around his ear, whispering in its singsong voice, The General arrives. He is alone.

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed immediately, albeit only slightly. “It’s Cassian.” He snapped his wings in, the movement stirring the loose hairs around her face, but still, he didn’t shift from his position standing in front of her.

They watched as Cassian landed on the terrace, striding for the back door to enter the kitchen area. His face brightened immediately at seeing them, then fell when he took in the scene in front of him. At the defensive posture of the other Illyrian in the room.

“Good morning, Cassian,” Elain chimed from behind Azriel’s hip, her hair tumbling over her shoulder at how much she had to lean around him to see the other male.

The General peeked at her, then slid his eyes back to his brother, taking note of the protective stance he was in. “Good morning, Ellie. Az,” he nodded. “Everything alright here?”

“We’re fine, aren’t we, Azriel?” She squeezed his hand in emphasis, trying to grab his attention.

But Azriel kept his hazel eyes trained on his brother. He was hotheaded, fighting every instinct inside him to protect his female and their unborn child. His heart thumped wildly as he watched his brother seem to come to a conclusion and stepped forward.

Then took another.

Until they were practically chest to chest. Cassian cocked his head to the side. Predator assessing predator. “Problem, brother?”

He knew what Cass was trying to do. Goad him to a fight should he need it. And fuck, did he need it. To break through that internal beast that was burning to be let out. But that second, gentle squeeze of his hand banked the rage, that overwhelming need to claim and guard what was his.

Cassian saw the change in him and took the open opportunity to step around his brother, ignoring the stiffening of his shoulders, the slight snarl that passed between his lips, to plant a kiss on Elain’s cheek. “How’s my sister doing today?” he asked, completely ignoring how Az monitored his every move like a hawk.

Azriel was well aware of how Cass saw his and Elain’s hands were still clasped; knew that he wouldn’t dare do any sudden movements with that connection to risk yanking her out of her chair.

Elain noticed it too as she tightened her grip on his hand. Bright, yet tired eyes looked up at the General. “Your sister is having a rough day,” she answered honestly.

He didn’t let his surprise show, too focused on watching his brother.

“Morning sickness?”

“The worst it’s ever been today. I barely made it out of bed before I puked. Poor Azriel,” she gave a slight tug to his hand to capture his gaze, “just missed being caught in the line of fire.”

He gave her a small smile before returning his attention to Cassian.

His brother still ignored him as he laughed. “I would pay good coin to see you puke all over this one here,” he jabbed a thumb into his stomach earning a hiss. He glanced over his shoulder, unruffled by the scowl. “Oh, hush you.” He then knelt so he was eye level with Elain, looked down at her slightly swollen stomach, and said, “You be nice to your mother, little one. No more of these nasty nausea spells. You hear me?” Cassian reached out as if to touch her slightly rounded belly, but stopped.

Azriel went ramrod straight, growling lowly. Shadows swirled around his and Elain’s ankles readying to strike like serpents.

Cassian glanced up at Elain. “May I?” he asked, either oblivious to the shadowed beasts prepared to attack him down or blatantly ignoring them.

She hesitated, her eyes finding Azriel’s and seeing that barely restrained fundamental instinct to defend her. Protect her. She read every taut line of his body, every shadow that curled around his snapped in wings. Her thumb stroked his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Easy, shadow,” she murmured.

The nickname struck his brother and he twisted his head to look up at him. Hazel eyes, so similar to his own, observed him—a general assessing a solider. Cassian was an intelligent male; knew how to command armies and lead them into battles. So, when he took in Azriel’s clearly agitated state, he knew better than to press those buttons. “Perhaps not, then,” he said, returning those softening eyes towards Elain and dropping his hand.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Let’s not push it. He’s been very fussy today because I haven’t felt well.”

That shattered his urges and he shot her a glare. “I have not been fussy.”

Cassian stood, laughing deeply. “Please,” he said, turning to step around him. “I could tell you were fussing today the moment I walked in here.” He slid into the seat across from Elain, sending her a wink that had her giggling into her teacup.

The sound was so beautifully normal that he could help but smile. It was exactly what he needed to come out of that protective mode that had gripped him since they’d woken up that morning. The tension left his body, muscles and wings relaxing as he brought her hand up to his mouth to kiss her softly across her knuckles.

“There he is,” she murmured, tugging him to sit down in the unoccupied chair next to her.

Azriel sat willingly, letting Elain rest her head on his shoulder.

Cassian gaped at the pair of them, his eyes darting back and forth between them.

“What?” Az snapped earning a huff from the female at his side in exasperation.

“I know you’re together and having a baby and all of that, but seeing you actually together is odd still.”

Elain lifted her head off his bicep, raising a brow at the Commander. “Do you want to elaborate?”

He ran a hand through his dark locks, his muscles rippling with the movement. “I’ve known Az here my entire life. And when he gets in these…moods, I’ve only ever been able to get him out of them through bloodied fists and bruised knuckles.” He shook his head. “But you. You get through to him with a simple touch, a laugh, a nickname.”

“Is that a bad thing?” she questioned.

His brother smiled broadly at them. “No, Elain, it’s not. It’s a wonderful thing. I’m truly happy for the both of you.”

She took another sip of her tea before setting it on the table in front of her and sat up straight. “I’m glad you stopped by, Cass. There is something we wanted to let you know.”

Cassian perked up.

“We plan to tell the others tomorrow, during my birthday dinner at Feyre and Rhys’s. About us,” she glanced at Az, eyes shining with love, “and about the baby. I still haven’t seen a healer and—”

“You still haven’t seen a healer?” Cassian demanded.

Elain frowned. “Please don’t. I’ve already gotten it from this one,” she jabbed her thumb in his direction, “today and I don’t need it from you.”

His brother’s face softened and he laid his hands, palms up on the table. “Ellie, we just want to make sure everything growing fine and there aren’t any issues we should know about. That’s why we keep bringing it up. We only want what’s best for you and your baby.”

“And you think I don’t? That I would be so irresponsible to not have considered everything I would need to care for my unborn child so they could grow healthily?” she snarled.

Cassian’s eyes widened at the sudden change in her attitude and Azriel placed a hand on her thigh as if to hold her to her chair. “El,” he said softly.

Elain’s mood swings were rare, but when they shifted, she could give Nesta a run for the Mother. Az still had whiplash from the first one before he realized what was going on. Now he was better equipped to handle it, letting her get her feelings out and then just soothing her in his arms.

“In case either of you has forgotten but I was the one who lived with Feyre throughout her pregnancy. I was at all of her sessions with Madja, and I was the one who snuck into her stash of herbs from her pregnancy and took what I needed without either her or Rhys finding out. Yes, I am aware of the risks that not seeing a healer right now brings.” Her eyes flared as she looked between the two of them. “But I’m also aware of the risks that having a healer tell our secret to Rhys before we can are also much higher and I won’t let that happen.” She shook her head, voice clouding with emotion. “I refuse to let that happen.” Those beautiful, golden-brown eyes filled with unshed tears that he knew she was desperately trying to hold back.

Azriel scooped her up and placed her on his lap, letting his presence and warmth comfort her. His scarred hand threaded through her golden-brown hair as he tucked her head under his chin. “It’s going to be fine, love. We’ll be all right,” he murmured, lips pressing tender kisses to the top of her head.

Cassian shot him a worried look, one that asked if they should be concerned.

He just shook his head, tightening his hold on her, hand rubbing up and down her arm. Az knew it was a combination of her fears for his safety and her hormones, but he didn’t want to get into that with his brother right now when she was already so upset.

His brother shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Elain, I apologize for speaking out of turn. It wasn’t my place to say anything about how to care for you or your baby. Please forgive me.”

She sniffed, tucking her face into his neck and breathing his scent in deeply like she was using it to calm herself. It was something she did when her mood swings hit—like his cedar and chilled mist aroma calmed her.

It made some deeply rooted male pride purr in response but he pushed those thoughts away and focused on her.

His skin dampened from her tears and he was quick to cup the side of her face and wipe them away. Scarred fingers brushed her hair behind her ear; slid down the curve of her jaw, the side of her throat.

Elain breathed in deeply, settling herself. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling away and giving him an embarrassed look.

“Don’t apologize, love,” he said, smoothing her hair back. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. I know you both are just looking out for me and our child.” She turned her watery gaze back towards Cassian. “I appreciate your concern, Cass. I’m sorry for snapping.”

His brother waved a hand. “You do realize I am mated to Nesta. You have vastly different interpretations of snapping.” He offered her a small, meaningful smile. “But I do apologize for overstepping. It wasn’t my place.”

“Thank you.” She turned her head to nuzzle into his neck once more before slowly climbing off his lap.

Azriel’s hands steadied her hips as she rose, still slightly shaky on her feet.

“I think I’m going to go lie down for a bit.” She gave him a look that said he needed to finish the conversation with Cassian without her.

He grasped her hand, thumb stroking the backside of her palm. “Are you all right?”

Her smile didn’t quite touch her eyes. “Just tired.”

He knew it was more than that but didn’t push, not wanting to start another wave of emotions, hormones, and tears. “Let me walk you up,” he said instead, starting to rise from his chair.

But she placed a firm hand on his shoulder, halting him. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been lightheaded all day, El.” He was concerned, so fucking concerned right now. She had a little coloring back on her cheeks, but she was still moving too slowly for his preference.

His brother watched them silently. Observed how they interacted, likely would speak more openly when Elain had left the room.

“I’m fine, Azriel. Stay with Cassian and visit. I’ll holler if I need you.” She leaned forward and kissed him—a light peck on the lips that she used to keep him planted firmly in his chair.

Damn her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Cass,” she called as she headed toward the exit.

“Bye, Ellie. Hope you feel better,” he said back.

Azriel sent a swarm of shadows after her retreating figure, just to be safe. And then he heard it. Her long, suffering sigh.

“Az,” she groaned. “One shadow. Not all, one. Single. We talked about this.”

Cassian snorted as he grumbled, reining in the dark whisps except for a single one that would secure around her wrist like a bracelet.

His brother was giving him a very amused look. “Don’t fucking start,” he barked.

“I didn’t say anything!” he said through his chuckling.

“But you want to. I can read it on your face and my shadows confirmed it.”

A dark brow raised and Cass crossed his arms. “Oh, there are several things I want to say, but probably shouldn’t, given how possessive you were when I first arrived.”

Azriel stiffened. “I wasn’t possessive.”

His brother shot him an unamused look. “Really? Because you barely let me near her. Me. The one who knew about her pregnancy before you, who kept her safe and warded the house when you were gone, and has never told a soul about what’s going on between you two since finding out.” He laid his forearms back on the table.

Shame washed over him at the realization and he sighed. “I’m sorry. My instincts to protect her kicked in and I lost control of myself.”

“I am on your side, Az. You know that I am. I swore it to Ellie that I was.”

He blinked at his brother—weighed his words. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be.”

Cassian looked at him stunned. “I beg your pardon?”

Azriel ran a scarred hand through his hair. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk about what exactly I’m going to face once Rhys finds out about Elain and me.”

“Elain mentioned he ordered you to stay away—”

“He pulled rank, Cassian.”

His brother went silent, eyes widening at the revelation.

“He pulled rank and he threatened. So, before you go about announcing that you’ll stand in between Rhys and us, you need to know that there’s a high probability that I won’t be making it out of this confrontation alive.”

The Commander cursed, low and filthy, hands gripping the edge of the table. “Rhys won’t kill you, Az. You’re his brother.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “When has he ever pulled rank like this, Cass?” The answer—is when he went Under the Mountain by himself and got trapped for nearly fifty years. It was the only other time Rhys had ever pulled rank before—and it had been to save them.

Now it was going to kill him.

His gaze dropped to the teacup in front of him. The one Elain had been drinking out of. He slid it over towards him, his hands needing something to do as his fingers stroked the rim of it.

“I’ll stand with you.”

Azriel’s head snapped up in surprise. “What?”

Cassian was staring at him with nothing but steely determination in his hazel eyes. “I’ll stand with you. Against Rhys. Lucien. The others. And anyone else who tries to get in your way. I’ll stand with you.”

Emotion clogged his throat; made his chest ache. He did not deserve his brother’s kindness. His loyalty and devotion. The back of his throat burned and Az had to clear it to speak. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me. I want to.”

“Why?” He needed to know.

The General held his gaze and refused to look away. “You’re my brother—”

“So is Rhys.”

He held up his hand to stop him from interrupting. “You’re my brother, Az. And you deserve to finally have your happily ever after. So does Elain. I can see how much you two mean to each other. How you love the other and would do anything for the other. It’s why she refuses to go see a Healer right now. Takes that risk for you. That’s a love worth fighting for, even if it’s not my own.” Cassian sat forward in his seat. “I have known you for over five hundred years, Az, and I have never seen you care for another individual as you do for Elain. You two are magnetic—I don’t know how nobody hasn’t ever picked up on it before—the way you move about rooms, the pull you have. The world tilts on its axis around you two. I see it now. There’s a connection between you and I don’t know if the Cauldron fucked up when it made Lucien her mate because it clearly should’ve been you.”

Azriel froze, too stunned to say anything. Those words—they were nearly identical to the ones he dared to say in Rhys’s office that night on Solstice. He had hated himself for thinking he’d ever be worthy enough to be considered Elain’s mate, Rhys had so much as said so, but to have his other brother now expressing those same beliefs. Those same dreams he had not even dared to voice to Elain, had something fracturing in his chest.

A scarred hand went to the front of his tunic, rubbing where his heart lay beneath the surface.

Cassian caught the movement.

“I’ve been questioning that myself,” he ventured to whisper.

Those hazel eyes stayed locked on the movement of his hand. “You can feel her, can’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “It’s like some integral part of her is connected to me. I’ve felt it since we met in their human home. Could sense her unease more so than just smell it and had this desire to help comfort her.” He clutched his tunic. “And then she was thrown into that godforsaken Cauldron…” he sighed heavily. “Even on the brink of death, I felt that pull to her, to try and save her. Her screams, they will haunt me until my last breath and will follow me into whatever comes next.”

Cassian’s head cocked to the side in contemplation. “Nesta is my mate, Az, and even I never felt a connection like that to her. Lucien may be Elain’s, but whatever it is that you two have, it’s something far deeper than that. Rarer and more precious.”

“What’s more precious than a mating bond?”

He just shrugged. “Something the world hasn’t seen for a very long time, I suppose.”

Azriel didn’t think there was anything more valuable than a mating bond, but what if Cass was right and it was just because it was something that was so rare, it was unheard of? He filed away the information to research later.

"There’s something else I wanted to address with you.” His fingers drummed on the tabletop. “I briefly mentioned it to Elain when I first found out, and it started to upset her so I dropped it, but you need to be aware.”

That had him sitting up straight, shadows curling around his shoulders in defense of the idea of something upsetting Elain. “What is it?”

His brother leaned back in his seat and draped an arm across the back of the chair next to him. “Have you considered the amount of power your child is set to inherit between the two of you?”

The question caught him off guard. Because truthfully, no he hadn’t. He never imagined what powers his children would manifest because he truly never thought he’d have any. “No, I haven’t.”

He nodded like he anticipated the response. “You’re a shadowsinger, Az. And one of the most powerful Illyrians in history. Elain is a Cauldron blessed Seer with power that we may not even know about yet. You two are bound to produce untapped potential offspring that could potentially rival Nyx in terms of sheer might.”

“Are you suggesting that we would be challenging Rhysand and Feyre?”

Cassian held up a hand. “Not at all. What I’m saying is that Rhys has always known that his wife and child would have a target on their backs because of who he was. The power he could pass on. But you need to realize the potential of having that same target on Elain and your children too. Once word gets out that Elain is—and don’t take it as if I think of her this way—breedable,” he shuddered at the word, wings twitching, “for powerful offspring, many threats are going to be looking at how they can use that to their advantage.”

Azriel snarled, viciously. Shadows erupted out of him, tearing through the kitchen, knocking into things, swirling around the tops of his wings and shoulders, ringing his fingers in darkness. “I’ll kill anyone who comes for her.” His voice promised nothing but utter wrath at anyone who dared harm his Elain. “Or my children. Anyone or anything that tries to come for them, I’ll end them without a second thought.” And he would. He’d protect his family from anyone who tried to take them from him.

His brother let him rage, let his shadows run amok around him. He didn’t try and calm the beast inside him that he relinquished control to, to protect what was his, and for that, he was grateful for it.

“We’ll protect them, Az. We’ll keep them safe. No matter what happens tomorrow, I can promise you that this family will guard and defend Elain and your child until their dying breath. Anyone who comes for them will have to go through us.”

Cassian spoke like a Commander and the words settled him. It took him a few moments to rein in his rage, to leash those Illyrian instincts until he could properly speak. “Thanks, Cass.” How his brother knew exactly what to say and when to say it was beyond him.

“Anytime, Az.” He glanced out the window. “I should be heading back to Nesta before she wonders where I’ve gone. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” He rose, heading for the back door when Azriel called out for him.

“Cass!”

He looked over his shoulder.

“There’s one other thing we need your help with.”

~~~~~

Elain was awake when Azriel came to check on her. She knew he was aware of it too. It wasn’t her fault though—she really had tried to fall asleep, but when she heard the conversation between the two Illyrians downstairs, sleep evaded her.

“Did you get any rest at all?” he asked, voice low and husky.

She was curled up on her side facing away from the door, but she turned her head to look at him. “Rest is for the wicked,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. Deep worry was settled in the frown that sat upon his face.

It didn’t budge.

“How much of that did you hear?”

Elain rolled onto her back and sat up.

He was instantly there, helping her move against the headboard of her bed, and then sat on the edge, taking her hand in his.

“I heard all of it, Az. Was what you said about Rhys true? That he might kill you for disobeying his orders?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. True fear had wrapped itself around her heart and gripped it so fiercely, that it threatened to nearly choke her. He hadn’t told her—hadn’t said a word at how badly this conversation tomorrow could go.

Scarred fingers brushed over hers in a soothing gesture, likely seeing every worry and fear written plainly on her face. “There is a possibility, yes.”

Her chest caved in and she made a pathetic whimpering sound.

“Hey, Elain, love. Look at me,” he said, cradling her face in his palms. When she refused, his grip on her jaw tightened slightly. “Love, look at me.”

Silver-lined eyes finally found his. “I will do everything in my power to prevent a fight from happening, but I went against his orders, Elain. He is my High Lord and he may choose to punish me for it. That doesn’t mean I won’t go down fighting for you,” he laid a hand on her slightly swollen belly, “for this. But I am prepared to face the consequences of my actions even if that costs me my life, so long as it keeps you and our child safe.”

Elain shook her head, tears running down her flushed cheeks. “I can’t do this alone,” she breathed.

Azriel smiled sadly at her. “You’re not alone, El. You’ll have your sisters with you. And Cassian will likely be glued to your side—”

“THEY ARE NOT YOU!” she screamed ripping her head from his grip. “Can’t you see that?” She was shaking. He had to see it. She couldn’t do this, not without him. “I don’t want them. I want you!” And then she was sobbing; earth-shattering, body-shaking sobs. Full-on hysterics that had her gasping for air. Her hands were clutching his biceps as she wheezed like her lungs stopped absorbing the oxygen she took in. Chest aching and on fire, Elain thought it was going to hollow in as she greedily tried to suck air in.

“Elain! Love, breathe!” He was up and kneeling before her. “The baby needs you to breathe, Elain.” Az was cradling her face in his palms again, getting her to focus on him. “Just like me. Do what I do.”

He took a deep breath in, and let it out. And another.

In and out.

She managed to mimic his movements, matching her breath to his until her gasping stopped and her tears dried. They stayed like that for what could’ve been minutes or hours, just focusing on breathing until Azriel dipped his head down and laid his forehead against hers.

“I’m sor—”

He shushed her. “No apologies.”

Elain sniffled as he brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Az. I don’t think I could stand there and watch that happen.” She knew she couldn’t. Elain would step in between Rhys and Azriel if it meant protecting him. Because she knew the High Lord would never dare to lay a hand on her.

“Cassian said he’ll stand with us.”

She had heard. “He’s a good male and an even better brother,” Elain said, smiling softly.

“That he is. He and I will handle Rhys should we need to. But I need you to promise me, El, that if it comes down to a brawl, you will not try to get in the way. Because I will absolutely lose my mind if you put yourself and our baby in harm’s way for me.”

Elain laid a palm flat on his chest. “You are worth it, Az. To place me between you and Rhys and protect you from his wrath—you are worth it. Please remember that.”

His entire body shuddered at her words and she realized that perhaps this was more than just about protecting her. Azriel was so insistent about keeping her safe even if it cost him his life because, in his eyes, his life was less valuable. She needed him to see how wrong he was. “I need you, Az. This baby needs their father.” And because she knew he would need to hear it, she added, “He won’t hurt me, Azriel. No matter what becomes of it, Rhys will not attack if I’m between you two.”

He let out a heavy breath that brushed over her lips. “I know he won’t,” he whispered. “But I can’t take that chance, El. To put you in front of me like that, in the line of fire—it goes against every single instinct engrained inside of me to protect you and our baby. I—” he choked on his words; anguish danced in those darkened hazel eyes. “I don’t know what I will do if you come between us. Fae males can get extremely defensive of their pregnant females without realizing it, and for Illyrians, it’s worse, borderline violent.” His knuckles skimmed over the curve of her cheek, hooking a loose curl behind her arched ear. “At their base level, Illyrian males will fight and kill to keep what’s theirs safe, and while I will fight myself to prevent that, the threat that Rhys poses to us makes it very…challenging.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Elain knew that Fae males were territorial of their pregnant mates, but hearing how much it affected Az was something she hadn’t anticipated given how controlled he typically was. It didn’t bother her, surprisingly, his need to protect her like she thought it would and she figured it was because she knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose; and because he was also trying to fight it. She could respect that.

Azriel continued to stroke her cheek with his thumb. “So, I’m going to ask you, El, to please, please, not step in between us.”

Elain sighed heavily, leaning into his palm. “Fine. I will attempt to resist, but I cannot guarantee that I won’t try to protect you, Az. Just as you would do for me, I would do for you.” She gripped the front of his tunic in her fist. “My life, my love, my soul, my shadow—I vow to you the safety of my heart.”

He kissed her then, an urgent, all-consuming type of kiss. It was of devotion, of passion, and filled with so much love it made her heart soar in her chest.

“Elain, my sweet, my love, the mother of my child and light of my life, I vow to always cherish every moment of our lives together, to be your companion and protector, to love and worship you forever.”

Tears filled her eyes though she didn’t know how she could still have anything left in her after all the crying she had done today. She really was an emotional, hormonal mess.

But, mother bless this male, Azriel didn’t seem to mind one bit as he wiped away her waterworks without a second thought. “Lie down with me?” She just wanted the comfort of his presence, the safety and security of his arms around her knowing that tomorrow may bring new worries, new fears, and new problems to face. But for now, she could put that aside and just focus on this moment, until it was time for them to leave that night for the one other thing they needed to do before they told their family.

Slipping behind her, Az wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against his chest. His wings cocooned them in his night chilled mist and cedar scent, and it didn’t take long for her to finally drift off to sleep.

~~~~~

Elain and Azriel were walking down the road towards the River Manor. They had decided to walk, not wanting to risk setting off her morning sickness by flying though she was much better today than she was yesterday. Plus, by walking, it also made it look like Az had seen her on his flight over and simply dropped down to walk with her.

It was less suspicious.

“How are you feeling,” Az asked her for what she thought was the twentieth time since they left the townhouse. And it was only a fifteen-minute jaunt over to the Manor.

She let her knuckles brush against his. They were holding hands, but let go at the last block, just to be safe. “Still good, like the last hundred times you asked me,” she teased, winking at him.

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, love. I think I’m just a bit nervous is all.”

Risks be damned, she took his beautifully scarred hand in hers. “Everything will be fine, Az.” Bringing the backside of his palm up to her mouth, she kissed his knuckles, wanting to give him that security.

The distant beat of wings had them quickly pulling apart and looking up towards the sky. They were just down the road from Rhys and Feyre’s place when Cassian swooped low and aimed right for them, landing hard enough that Elain swore she heard his knees pop. He beelined for them, a look of concern that had her gut twisting.

“We have a problem,” he said in lieu of a greeting, stopping a few paces in front of them.

She ran a hand down the front of her cobalt dress—purposely picked to match Az’s siphons and announce their status as a couple—in a calming gesture. It was loose enough to hide the swell of her baby bump until they were ready to break the news to their family.

A warm, solid hand slid to her lower back. “What’s wrong?” Az demanded.

Cassian met her gaze and there was nothing she could do to stop the sinking of her heart. “Lucien’s here.”

The shadowsinger snarled, stepping closer to her side, but it was Elain who clutched his arm, asking, “Why is he here?”

He shrugged. “I think Rhys and Fey invited him.”

Azriel moved into her line of sight. “We don’t have to go, El. We can turn around and go back to the townhouse right now if you want.”

“That would be suspicious,” Cass murmured, unhelpfully.

Az growled at his brother but stopped when she touched his face.

“He’s right, Az. The only thing worse than showing up would be to not show up at all. They would come looking for me. It would make things a lot harder for us in the end.”

He twisted his head to kiss her palm, placing his large hand over the top of it. “What do you want to do?”

Elain breathed in deeply, settling her nerves. “We will have to face them eventually.” She took a moment to collect her thoughts, weighing her options. They were limited on them, and frankly, out of time. “I think we should wait to tell them until Lucien leaves.”

A look of concern flashed across the shadowsinger’s face. “Elain, you need to see a healer,” he said cautiously.

“And I will. Tomorrow. We’ll summon one to the house and take the risk that Rhys finds out.” She saw relief wash over him, a similar expression mirrored on his brother. “But we need them on our side for when we broach the subject with Lucien.” Her mate’s name tasted sour on her tongue, and from the way Azriel’s shoulders tensed, he wasn’t fond of her saying it either. “I hate to ask you this, Az, because I know you’re doing your best, but I need you to tone down the instincts tonight. We need to continue pretending as if nothing is going on between us and that can’t happen if you’re snapping at his heels the moment we walk through that door.”

He reached out a brushed the tips of his fingers over her cheek. There was a war going on in his mind, she could see it clearly in his hazel irises. That need to protect her versus doing as she requested. Finally, he sighed, head bowing until their brows touched. “I’ll try my best. But if he lays a hand on you, I guarantee nothing.”

“Lucien has never touched me before—I think we’ll be just fine.”

Cassian cleared his throat, regaining their attention. “I hate to interrupt this moment, but we should be getting to the party. And I think you two shouldn’t arrive together.”

“Like hell!” Az growled, tugging her closer to his body.

The General just held up a hand. “Lucien has already asked about both of your whereabouts. So, if he wasn’t suspicious that something was going on before, he definitely will be if you show up together.”

“What did he say?” Elain asked, hand coming up to touch the delicate, stained glass rose pendant that Az had gifted her at Winter Solstice last year. The necklace had made its rounds, to which he had profusely apologized; but, it finally made its way home to its rightful owner and now sat around the soft skin of her neck.

A thing of secret, lovely, beauty.

“He just asked where you were at—I’m assuming because your scent is no longer at the Manor. Feyre told him you moved into the townhouse to have some space of your own. They chatted for a bit and then he asked me if Az was coming,” he explained, nodding in his direction.

Shadows swirled around her defensively.

“What did you tell him?” Az demanded.

She ran a soothing hand down his arm. It was going to be a long night.

Cassian shot them a conspirator grin. “Said you got tired of Nesta and me fucking and moved back into your apartment.”

Elain choked on air, face going scarlet.

“And that I had no idea if you were coming or not, but figured you were since we’re family.”

“You said that out loud?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer or not. Elain had no desire to learn about her sister’s sex lives.

He shrugged. “It made everyone uncomfortable enough to end the conversation. And was well-worth the smack to the back of the head from Nesta.”

“Rhys didn’t say anything about my moving out of the House of Wind?”

Cass shook his head. “I could tell he noted it but didn’t comment further. Another reason why you two should not show up together, especially if you don’t plan on telling them tonight.”

It was clear that Az knew Cassian had a point, but it still weighed on him.

“I’ll walk her in, brother. And stay by her side.”

There seemed to be an internal conversation going on between the two Illyrians that Elain was not privy to, but if she had to guess, it consisted of the Commander swearing his duty to the shadowsinger in some soldier-like way.

“You’ll protect her?”

“With my life,” Cassian said without hesitating.

She huffed. “You two are dramatic. Can we go now?”

“Give us a minute or so before you come in behind us.”

Azriel cupped the side of her face, thumb brushing over the apple of her cheek. “I’ll see you there.” And then he kissed her, a desperate need to push all his feelings into a single moment.

She let him, giving him this haven Elain knew he needed even being this close to the house—because she needed it too.

When he finally pulled away, he snapped his wings out and shot into the sky, likely to monitor the remaining trek to the house from above.

Cassian graciously offered her his arm, to which she happily accepted. With Azriel not at her side, the nerves kicked into full gear. “You can’t scent me, right?” she asked him as the River Manor loomed closer.

The General took a deliberate, yet subtle sniff in her direction. “No. Who’s monitoring the shadows tonight?”

“He is. We figured it’d be better off under his control. Plus, after yesterday, the mental exhaustion of having to manage those…” she shuddered.

Cassian gave her a once over. “How are you feeling today?”

She offered him a genuine smile. “Much better.” His hand squeezed hers in response. As they reached the front gates of the massive estate, she slowed her pace just slightly. “How do you think he’ll handle it tonight?” She was worried, there was no denying it. Azriel had been a steady rock since he found out about her pregnancy, but she knew the position they were in, put him on an unsteady edge. And she was scared of how far he'd tip into those blinding instincts. Not of him. She was never scared of Az. But for him—how he’d react to his actions once he’d come back down.

He assessed her then, weighed her question. “Do you want my honest answer or the one that will make you relax before we go into the house?”

“Your honest answer, Cass. You know I always ask for your truth.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “If we make it ten minutes without him brawling with either Lucien or Rhys, I will call tonight successful.”

Elain sucked in a sharp breath. She knew Azriel was watching them right now, high above and hidden in his shadows. Knew he couldn’t hear what they were saying, even with the one that was attached to her leg under her skirts—it would never betray her confidence.

“Ellie, please cut him some slack. He’s in a tough spot right now and I know he’s trying to rein everything in because you don’t like that territorial bullshit. So, if he does go off, just try to calm him down. I’ll do my best to work the rest of the room, but you’ll need to focus on him.”

They reached the front porch and paused at the door. “I’ll try.”

The corner of his mouth curled up in a half-smile. “Ready, birthday girl?”

She shook her head at his antics. “As good as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

With a chuckle, Cassian swung the door open and bellowed, “Look who I found inspecting the front rose bushes.”

A hoard of feet came towards the foyer as the door shut behind them and they made their way towards the sitting room.

“Elain!” Feyre squealed, Nyx perched on her hip. “Happy birthday!”

Cassian released her so she could hug her sister and kiss her nephew on his cheek. “Thank you.”

“We were wondering where you were,” Rhys said, coming up behind his mate and smiling down at her.

Her stomach twinged at his words. There was something edged to them that made her nervous. Did he know? Had he seen something?

“Did they pass inspection?”

Confusion blanketed her face. “I’m sorry?”

“The roses? Did they pass your inspection?” he clarified.

“Oh!” her cheeks heated. “Yes, they did. You have hired a skilled gardener in my absence.”

He chuckled, stepping around his wife and child to plant a kiss on her cheek. “None as skilled as you, I’m afraid, but they’ll have to do…Happy birthday, Ellie.”

The words felt targeted. Intentional. Enough so, that even Cassian stiffened next to her. “Thank you, Rhysand.”

The room went silent at her use of his full name.

Checkmate.

Before he could respond to it, a knock on the front door echoed in the Manor, swinging open. And there he was, darkness incarnate. Shadows trailed his steps, wreathed the talons on his wings. A polite, yet bland smile was plastered on his beautiful face, though she could see the sharpened warrior beneath it. Honed from centuries as the deadly Night Court Spymaster. Azriel was not here as their family, as their brother.

No. He was fully submerged in his role as her lover, protector, the father of their child. Any wrong move, any misguided word would set him off and she had no idea why, but the idea of it made her insides go molten.

He wore an all-black ensemble, typical, but they had agreed to let him wear two cobalt siphons—one atop either hand—just in case things did indeed go badly and he needed to delve into that deadly killing power.

Elain craned her head over her shoulder as he approached, twisting to face him.

His eyes never left her, scanned her from head to toe.

To others, it would’ve looked like a casual assessment. But she knew it was him checking her over. Making sure she was unharmed. Her eyes narrowed a fraction. So fussy they seemed to say.

His crinkled in amusement as he reached out a hand towards her. “Happy birthday, Elain,” he said in that velvety voice that brought the heat to her skin…amongst other places.

She took it. “Thank you, Azriel. Glad you could make it.” Words she wouldn’t be saying to the red-headed male scrutinizing this very interaction with that special eye of his. She had yet to greet him and had no desire to. No matter how rude.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek; may have lingered a second or two longer than what his brother did. “You look lovely. New dress?”

It was, Azriel had bought it for her himself at the Palace of Thread and Jewels specifically for tonight. She grinned, hand sliding down the bodice. “It is. Thank you.”

“It’s a good color on you, too,” he added with a smirk, before finally letting go of her hand.

“Are you going to share my sister, shadowsinger?” Nesta chuckled, walking from the bar cart where she and Mor stood and over to her with a glass of wine. She handed it to Elain, a peace offering of the sorts. “Happy birthday.”

Elain just looked down at the dark liquid in the crystal glass.

“Is that not acceptable wine for you?” the eldest Archeron retorted, voice sharp.

Her head snapped up as shadows swirled lowly across the floor. “No, it’s fine. I just had a headache today and I don’t want to risk tempering it with alcohol tonight. I was debating the risks. I’m sorry.”

“Are you having visions, Elain?” Feyre asked, genuine worry on her face.

“No. Just a headache. Probably too much time in the sun.”

Cassian reached in and plucked the glass from her hands. “Don’t mind if I do.” He sipped. “Are we going to just stand around like a bunch of dumbasses or are we going to sit down and relax?”

“Cass!” Feyre hissed. “Little ears!”

She was so grateful that Cass knew, at that moment. To have him as their backup and to carry the conversation forward. He dropped a large hand on her shoulder, winking, before finding a spot on the low-back plush chairs.

Elain took advantage of the break to secure her nephew from his mother and sat on the sofa, cooing and blowing raspberries at the nearing toddler. She only got a few moments of repentance before she felt his presence hovering over her. Golden-brown eyes glanced up at Lucien.

“Happy birthday, Elain,” he murmured.

She didn’t dare look over to see how Azriel was faring, though she knew he was currently nursing a glass of whiskey and watching them with the death stare he showed those he took to the depths of Hewn City. Clutching Nyx closer to her body, she gave Lucien a half-assed smile. “Thank you.”

“Do you mind if we speak? Over by the window, perhaps?”

Her eyes glanced at the pane shining with the golden rays of sunlight. “Um,” she started, searching for any excuse to get out of having to endure a private conversation with him. Or as private as one could have in a room full of the fae. She shrank further into the couch cushions, hating that this male made her feel so small. That the bond between them felt like a suffocating weight.

“Here,” Feyre said, sliding her hands in to take her nephew from her arms. “I’ll take Nyx so you guys can chat.” She winked at Elain like she was doing her some huge favor.

She wanted to curse her sister. Ignoring the burning glare from across the room, Elain got up and followed Lucien to the window.

He spoke in a hushed tone, “So, I didn’t actually get you a physical birthday gift.”

Oh, thank the Mother. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “That’s fine. You don’t have to get me anything.”

Lucien scratched the back of his head. “Well, that’s the thing. It’s not a physical gift, per se. I asked Feyre and Rhys and they both agree that this would be good for us.”

Her stomach dropped in dreaded anticipation. “What are you talking about?” she asked, arms crossing.

“I want you to come back with me to the Human Lands.”

Every thought emptied from her head. No, oh gods no. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t take her away, not from Azriel. Not while she was pregnant. She felt, more than saw Cassian move so he was standing near the shadowsinger, ready to intervene at any second.

Not seeming to sense her discomfort, he powered on, “It’d only be for a week. But it would allow us to get to know each other better. You could see more of the world. Feyre said you always wanted to travel.”

Elain shot a menacing glare in the direction of her sister, who was giving her a wide smile. Encouraging her.

Fuck, they really had no idea who she was. Nobody did.

Nobody but Azriel bothered to look beneath the surface of her skin. He was the one who cracked through every wall until he wormed his way into her heart and made it his home.

Risking it, she chanced a glance in his direction. Back strained and wings tucked in so tightly, they twitched. His head was bowed as he stared intently at his glass of whiskey, held so forcefully in his fist his knuckles were white.

Elain had no idea how it hadn’t shattered yet. She returned her gaze to the redheaded male in front of her, saw that hopeful look on his face, and knew she had to break it. Here and now in front of everyone. “Lucien, that’s very sweet of you to offer. But I can’t go. I’m sorry.”

The tension in the room grew until it threatened to choke her. And then he did the one thing she never thought he would.

“Please, Elain,” he said, laying a hand on her arm. “I just want—”

A snarl, so deep, so threatening and violent, ripped through the Manor that it rattled the artwork hanging on the walls. Shadows erupted like vicious hounds, circling her and carefully moving her away from Lucien until his hand slipped away.

She let herself be pulled from him, knowing Azriel was set off. Elain turned to look at him, glass shattered on the tabletop that now dripped with whiskey onto the thick carpets.

He was rising out of his seat, blazing eyes set on the Autumn Court male across the room. His wings were spread, not quite snapped out completely, but enough to show their size and assert himself.

Cassian tapped his chest siphon and was now donning full Illyrian leathers, much to his mate’s surprise. He positioned himself closer to Elain, she realized. A protective stance.

But it was Rhys’s authoritative voice that cut through the escalating threat in the room. “Stand down, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger’s head whipped to his High Lord as he growled. “Fuck you and your orders, Rhysand.”

From the corner of her eye, Elain caught Nuala appear from the shadows, pluck Nyx from his mother’s arms, and disappear once more, likely to someplace safe and out of range of whatever was about to transpire here.

“Rhys,” came Feyre’s soft, yet firm voice. “What’s going on here?”

He ignored her, instead, focusing on his brother and Elain—those violet eyes glancing between the two of them. Assessing.

Growing impatient, Az pushed, “Well? Are you going to tell everyone the scheming you’ve been doing behind their backs?”

“Az,” Elain warned. Not now. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Babies were supposed to bring love and joy into the world. Not anger and resentment between families.

He looked over his shoulder at her, read the concern and fear on her face, and immediately relaxed. His shoulders sagged, wings loosened enough to slowly retract together.

She reached for him; placed a hand on his forearm in comfort.

“It seems my scheming was done in vain then,” Rhys drawled, likely noting the gesture and knowing it was more than a casual touch, but one of intimacy.

Oh, for the love of the Mother.

Defenses went back up as another snarl ripped out of him. “Come off it, Rhysand.”

“She is his mate, Azriel. Not yours. You have no business inserting yourself in their dealings,” Rhys argued. mate

Elain stepped up next to the shadowsinger, ready to rip into Rhys for treating her like an object of Lucien rather than her own person. Her face heated, but she shoved down any embarrassment and let the rage she had been holding back for nearly a year grow into an inferno. Ire burned in her blood—made it sing—but before she could even remotely form the words on her tongue, Azriel’s temper shot back.

“And you do?” he snapped. “Perhaps you should ask Elain what she wants instead of making the decisions on her behalf. But if you think, for one fucking second that I’m letting the mother of my child go off with him to the Human Lands without me, you have another thing coming.”

The whole room went silent like the air had been sucked out. It made it hard to breathe as every single set of eyes narrowed in on her, on her slightly rounded stomach.

“Oh boy,” she muttered, stepping slightly closer to Azriel’s side.

He slid an arm around her waist, scarred hand splaying across her lower belly protectively, and hauled her up against his body.

Elain felt every tense muscle behind her. One wrong move from anyone and she knew Az would deem it a threat. She needed to deescalate this.

Fast.

“Why don’t we all just take a few minutes to breathe?” she said, meeting eyes with Rhys, her sisters.

“Is it true?” came Lucien’s hushed voice.

She twisted her head to look at him just as he took a step toward her.

Azriel went ridged and growled in warning.

“Please, Lucien, not another step. I cannot stop him at this point,” she cautioned. “But to answer your question. Yes, it is true.” Elain reached back and placed a palm on Az’s cheek, tipping her head up to look at his face. “It’s all right love. You can release the shadow.”

Those hazel eyes tore away from marking everyone else in the room to glance down at her. They softened immediately, filling with love and joy. And then her scent combined with that new, florally-woodsy aroma engulfed the room.

A collective gasp echoed throughout the group as everyone took in that innocent smell. The scent of new life. That beautiful, potent aroma that Azriel loved to inhale every single day because it was so thoroughly a combination of the two of them.

She smiled up at him, tears lining her eyes. No, it wasn’t how they wanted to tell everyone of their baby, but it was finally out in the open. And it was relief that lifted off her shoulders; the truth coming forward.

Azriel leaned down to kiss her forehead, not caring that there was still so much they had to get through. It was like he couldn’t help himself from the simple moment between them.

Their little family.

Elain clutched at his arm still around her waist, her other hand lacing with his as she returned her attention to her family.

Feyre let out a choked sob, stepping around the sofa like she was going to come to them, but Rhys gripped her shoulder, halting her. “Not yet, darling.”

“Excuse me?” she demanded, ready to shove her mate’s hand off her.

But Cassian answered for him. “Az isn’t ready for you to get close to Ellie yet.”

Indeed, he wasn’t. Shadows whipped around them like snakes, curling up their legs, around their arms, over his wings. The blue siphons on the backs of his hands glowed, magic eddying and ready to strike destructively with their deadly power.

“Az,” she whispered, fingers stroking over his. “We’re all right here. Nobody is going to harm us, right?” she cut everyone a glare, in particular the High Lord who was looking at them with an unreadable expression. But at the last second, before she returned her gaze to the shadowsinger, she saw his mask slip, and it was anguish in those violet irises staring back at her.

He relaxed slightly, eyes flicking between hers. The curt nod told her he was slowly coming off the edge, though words were still beyond him at this point.

A humorless laugh cut through the silence and all heads whipped towards her mate, standing still too close for her comfort, and Azriel’s, given his sudden tension again. “Couldn’t find your own mate, so you had to go and steal mine, shadowsinger?” Lucien spat. “Then impregnate her on top of it.”

Elain felt Azriel flinch behind her, knew how those words would strike every insecurity he once held and still did, deep in his heart and soul. The pain of those words would latch onto his very being. Because no matter how many times she told him, he still felt unworthy of her.

Twin, vicious snarls echoed in the room, neither of them coming from the male behind her, but from his two brothers at Az’s defense.

She didn’t let the surprise at Rhys’s protectiveness over his brother’s well-being show as her magic thrummed in her chest and pulsed in the sitting room. Ancient and powerful. Elain faced her mate with deadly wrath. “How dare you say something so cruel.” She stepped out of Az’s arms with fierce determination and power rolling through her body. “I am not an object for you to collect and I am not yours,” she hissed. “The Cauldron may have made us mates, but it does not get to decide who I will spend my life with.”

Elain took another step forward, eyes glowing golden as that magic, the gift of life she had been blessed with took hold of her. Her hair floated around her like an electrical current ran through her. She looked both ethereal and otherworldly.

It was enough of a threat to make the Autumn Court male step back, eyes wide with fear.

Another wave of magic enveloped the room—a protective barrier locking everyone in here and to prevent Lucien from grabbing her and winnowing away—she assumed. A peek at the High Lord who nodded confirmed it.

She returned her attention to her mate. “I chose Azriel. He is my choice, my lover and partner for life. And I am sorry that you got shackled to me and have to go through this, but that is what I want and who I want, and you will have to live with it.” Elain managed to back Lucien into a wall and poked him in the chest with a nail. “And if you think about trying to challenge him to a Blood Dual, you can bet your fire ass you will be going through me first.”

The redhead swallowed hard, clearly taken aback by her words and display of power. “I—” he hesitated. “I’m not trying to collect you, Elain. That was never my intention.”

“Your words and attitude say otherwise.”

Lucien, to his credit, looked uncomfortable with his actions. “Forgive me, Elain. That was the mating bond reaction.” He sighed heavily. “To be honest, I was going to ask you to come to the Human Lands only to see if there was even a small chance at making this work between us. If by the end of the week, there wasn’t, I was going to offer to you to break the bond.”

A weight in her chest, one that had settled in there since her turning lifted. For the first time since she became fae, Elain felt like she could truly breathe and she realized just how badly her bond with Lucien controlled and tethered her to a life she so desperately tried to break free from. A life her mother had once groomed her for.

Shackled is what she called it. However, it wasn’t Lucien in shackles but her. Forced down a single path. Never veering off course for fear of reprimand and disappointment. But she was tired of putting others’ desires above her own. No longer would she push what she wanted aside. Being with Azriel, choosing him was the first time she stepped off the path everyone else expected for her and made her own trail.

Elain chose her heart. And she would continue choosing her heart as long as it made her happy.

Wings shuffled behind her and then Az’s cracked voice filled the silence that had enveloped the room at the lordling’s confession. “You were going to break the bond?”

That brought her back to the conversation at hand.

Lucien nodded. “I’ve been looking for ways to break Vassa’s curse and stumbled upon an ancient spell-cleaving ability that I believe could break a mating bond. Or at least lessen it so we aren’t plagued with feeling it as much.” His eyes searched her face. “Since that day in Hybern, when I broke through his spells, I’ve been honing that bit of my magic I didn’t even know I had. I think I may be able to do this.”

She took a shuddering step forward, “Please, Lucien.” A hand lay on top of her shoulder, preventing her from getting any closer to her mate.

His mechanical eye whirled, clicking as he surveyed her—them. “It’s permanent, Elain. Once performed, it cannot be undone. We will no longer be mates.”

“Break it. Please, Lucien. Break it.” Tears lined her eyes. She’d beg him if he so asked her to. She knew it wasn’t fair to him, to ask him to do this for her. But to be rid of this bond completely, Elain had wanted nothing more since her turning.

A flash of agony crossed his features, but it was gone in an instant as he looked at Azriel over her shoulder. “I will need to touch her. Preferably without you attacking me.”

Cassian snorted from where he lounged against the window frame, closer to them than she realized. He must’ve followed Azriel over, in case he needed to interfere. “You’re asking a lot there.”

Elain didn’t need to see it to know the shadowsinger was shooting his brother a lethal glare. “He won’t,” she said definitively.

“Elain,” Rhys, began, “Are you sure—”

She whirled on her brother-in-law. “You be quiet,” she hissed, her voice sounding more ancient-being than fae. “You don’t get a say or are allowed to voice your opinion here.” Ignoring how he and the rest of her family blanched at her outburst, and at that otherworldly power she displayed that they had no idea she possessed, she turned back to Lucien and offered him her hand, assuming he needed it.

He took it. “Palm on my chest. Over my heart.” Lucien glanced once at the male behind her, before placing his hand on her.

It was…awkward. His palm was practically on the top swell of her left breast, and from the way Azriel went preternaturally still behind her, she knew he saw it too. “Az, step into me and take a breath,” Elain ordered.

He did as she requested, a scarred hand coming down on her shoulder, the other around her waist. His breath tickled the little hairs by her temple, but he relaxed into her, taking in her scent. The scent of their child.

She nodded at Lucien, indicating she was ready.

And then they started to glow. First, it was their hands, a bright, purifying light pouring from them like they captured rays from the sun itself that were trying to penetrate between their fingers. Then it licked up their arms to their shoulders and chests until they were swallowed in it.

Elain had to squeeze her eyes shut. It was warm too, like a late spring afternoon. Peaceful. But that peace grew hotter, more intense until it was like a blistering inferno that raged. She cried out, feeling like the heat sucked the life, the air, straight from her. It left her reeling.

“Elain!” Azriel’s voice was a distant sound as he struggled to keep her tied to this world.

Down, down, down she went. That bright, burning light faded into darkness and despair. It was colder than the winters she experienced as a human. The ache that once filled her stomach was nothing in comparison to the shredding of her chest. Like the hook that was bound to her soul caught and ripped apart her very being.

A whimpering sound passed her lips as that magic ripped apart every ribbon of her bond and there was nothing left at all.

Until she was nothing at all.

But Elain.

Her eyes blinked open and she gasped, back arching high off Azriel’s lap. They were on the floor—she must’ve collapsed at some point during the spell.

His head was bent over her, finger sweeping over her cheeks, temple, and jaw. Tears lined his eyes and splashed onto her forehead. “Oh, thank the mother.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “Are you hurt?” Shadows flitted around them, preventing anyone from getting too close.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Her eyes glanced towards Lucien, finding him on all fours, breathing harshly.

He met her gaze and nodded.

“It’s gone,” Elain breathed. She choked on a sob. “The bond is gone.” She sat up on Az’s lap as her once mate climbed to his feet. “Thank you, Lucien. Truly. You’ve freed me.” And she meant it. He had given her the greatest gift—her autonomy.

The Autumn lord stepped up to them, grief and sorrow painted his face, but there was also relief too. It would take time, but she was sure he would come to realize that this was best for both of them. “Be happy, Elain.” He eyed the male whose lap she sat in. “Take care of her, shadowsinger.” Crossing the room, Lucien paused in front of Feyre and Rhys. “I’m going to return to the Human Lands tonight. I’ll need some time—”

“Of course,” Feyre said, placing her hand on his bicep in comfort. “Take care of yourself, Luc.” He gave her a grim smile but did not look back at the female he was once mated to as he left.

Azriel’s scarred hands brushed over her arms soothingly. “Can you stand?” he murmured in her ear.

Elain nodded, letting him help her up off the floor. Her head swam and she leaned into Az’s side for support.

“Are you all right?”

“Just a little dizzy.”

Feyre stepped forward, but stopped, looking between her and the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, but she didn’t dare push her luck. “Should we call a healer?”

Cassian snorted again.

She shot him a menacing glare.

Her sister blinked in confusion. “Am I missing something?”

A blush dusted her cheeks. Well, so much for not getting another lecture. “I haven’t seen a healer yet,” she admitted.

“How far along are you?” Nesta asked.

“Right around two months, I believe.”

“Elain,” Feyre chastised. “You haven’t been seen by a healer yet and you’re already at two months?”

Azriel growled in warning at the tone but the High Lady waved him off, unphased by the sound.

“You know fae pregnancies are high risk. And with an Illyrian there are other things to worry about,” Feyre babbled on. “Why would you wait?”

Her anger from earlier returned in full force. “Why don’t you ask your mate?”

Rhys blanched as her sister whirled on him. “What did you do?” she demanded.

It’s not often that you’d see the High Lord of the Night Court hesitate. That someone made him nervous. But looking at his wife right now, Elain could see the fear in his eyes at telling her the truth. “I, uh—” he stumbled over his words. Those violet eyes looked towards her and Azriel, pleading.

But he’d find no friends amongst them.

“Tell her, Rhys,” Cassian snapped, arms crossed.

Nesta whipped her head towards her mate, brows raised. Oh, he’d be hearing about it from her later.

The High Lord sighed, head bowing. “I’ve made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Elain seethed, surprising everyone with the hostility she rarely if ever showed. “A mistake is bringing the wrong dessert to a family dinner or knocking over glassware and breaking it. What you did to not just me but to your brother…” Tears threatened to flow down her cheeks. “How could you do that to us, Rhys? To pull rank on him. To take away my right to choose—”

“You what?” Nesta barked. Cassian silenced her with a curt look.

But Elain powered on, needing to get through this. “I wanted him that night,” she pointed in Azriel’s general vicinity behind her. “And what you did put us through hell. Made us end up in the position we’re in now.”

She sniffed, unable to stop the tears from falling now. “I couldn’t see a healer because I was so scared they would report to you. And even though Azriel kept from me exactly what you could do to him for going against your orders, I knew, somewhere deep down in my heart, the consequences would be severe.” She let out a strangled sound that had the shadowsinger moving and placed his hands on her shoulders in solitary support. “I just couldn’t let you hurt him. Not because of me and what I chose.”

Rhys walked towards her, careful to keep some space between them, but close enough to address her more personally. “Elain,” he said her name devastated, hands out placatingly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have interfered with your lives—”

“No,” Feyre said sternly. “No, you shouldn’t have.” The glare the High Lady shot her mate would’ve sent lesser males running. “You and I will be having a long discussion about this later when you find yourself sleeping in one of the guest rooms.”

Rhys’s shoulders curved inward even further looking like a broken male that’d been kicked to the curb.

Elain wiped the tears from her face before crossing the sitting room until she was directly in front of the High Lord. She placed her left hand on the center of his chest, startling him enough that he looked down at her with those tortured violet eyes. “Over time, I can forgive you, Rhys, for what you did to me. But I cannot forgive you for what you did to my husband, only mend what we had.”

A collective gasp echoed in the room.

“Mother’s tits!” Mor shouted from where she stood. She had clearly been around Cassian too much, having taken over for Az in Valkyrie training. “You’re married?”

Rhys’s gaze dropped from her face to the hand resting on his chest. The glamour that had been holding since they left the townhouse that evening vanished with a flick of Azriel’s wrist, and there sat a simple black band, engraved with roses and lined with diamonds and sapphires—the male counterpart adorned on Az’s ring finger. Nothing extravagant like the one her younger sister wore, but neither Elain nor Azriel were the individuals who entertained the idea of luxury. Simple elegance was more their style and the band perfectly encompassed them and their love.

“When did you two get married?” Nesta demanded, eyes flicking between them.

Azriel crossed his arms, wings shifting behind him. “Last night.”

Elain patted the High Lord’s chest and gave him a sad smile before returning to her husband’s side. He tucked her under his arm, securing her against him. The warmth of his body seeped into her and she melted into it.

Her elder sister blinked at them.

“You were afraid the healer would notify Rhys, but not the priestess?” Feyre asked, confusion written on her delicate face.

And then it hit Nesta. “You fucker!” She turned toward her mate. “That’s why we had to go out to dinner last night?”

Cassian was grinning. “You guys don’t give me enough credit. I’m the one who figured out their secret first.” He looked so smug about it.

Elain snorted and rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have figured anything out if I had heard you come into the townhouse that day and hid my scent.”

Mor, swirling her glass of wine, asked, “How long have you known?”

“A month.”

“A month!” Nesta screeched. “You’ll be joining Rhys in that guest room.” She returned her gaze to them. “It was Gwyn, who performed the ceremony. At the House of Wind. Wasn’t it?”

Az kissed the top of her head. “Yes, it was. Cassian made arrangements for us to meet her there. I flew us up right after you two left. And we asked her to keep it quiet until you went in yelling at her for not telling you. That was to be her clue that we announced the marriage to everyone.”

“Does she know about the baby?”

“No,” Elain confirmed. “No, we didn’t tell her about that. We just said there were circumstances we couldn’t explain, but that we loved each other and needed a priestess to marry us. She didn’t have any qualms and performed the ceremony.”

Feyre came a bit closer, her eyes watching the shadowsinger. “Can we approach now?”

Azriel squeezed her waist, glancing down at his wife. “I’m better. You can get near her now.”

Her sisters didn’t give him a chance to reconsider, pulling her into a collective hug filled with tears.

“I want in on this too!” Mor cried, running across the sitting room and smacking into Feyre’s backside that sent them all lurching.

Only Azriel’s fast reflexes caught them before they tumbled to the floor in a heap.

“Easy, Mor,” Cass reprimanded, clapping Az on the shoulder and nudging him to a slowly approaching Rhys.

“I’m sorry, brother,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it, but just know that your family will always have the full protection of the Night Court.”

Elain was only half paying attention to what her sisters and Mor were saying, focusing rather on the shadowsinger and his High Lord.

Azriel just stared at his brother, and for a second, she thought he would dismiss him completely. But then he pulled Rhys in for a brotherly hug. “We’ll make amends.”

The High Lord sagged against him, arms clutching the shadowsinger like his life depended on it. Yes, things might not ever be the same between the brothers, but they weren’t completely broken. They would heal. And this baby would be welcomed into a loving family. That was all she had ever wanted for them.

“We should get a healer over to look at you,” Feyre announced, recapturing her attention. She placed a hand on her slightly rounded stomach.

“I’ll summon Madja,” Rhys stated.

“Not Madja.” All heads swiveled to her. She and Az had spoken about this, on why she would refuse the family’s preferred healer. He had agreed that it was her body, her choice on who she wanted looking over the health of their child during her pregnancy.

“Elain, Madja is the typical healer we use. She’s helped us, helped the boys for centuries.”

She cut her younger sister a scathing look. “She also kept vital information from you about your pregnancy that she shouldn’t have. And I know that it was a request by you, Rhys, but I cannot get past that. That relationship, that trust between the healer and her patient was broken. I’ll take anyone she recommends, but I do not want her.”

“Of course. Whatever you wish. I’ll request one right away.” Rhys reached out and touched her lightly on the cheek. “Congratulations, Ellie. You will make the most wonderful mother.” He smiled sadly, then strode from the room, not letting her the opportunity to thank him.

It would be a long road to rebuild what she and Rhys once had; there was too much hurt between them. There were so many secrets they kept from each other that had festered over the last year for it to just go away overnight. It would take months of healing. Years perhaps. But one day—one day they might get back to where they were before. She could only hope.

Feyre squeezed her arm before she followed her mate into the other room, likely to berate him even further for the mess that he created. Elain knew he deserved to have his head chewed off, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her brother too. It was one of the things that she supposed made her weak.

“Your kindness isn’t weakness,” Az said, sidling up next to her. He always seemed to know what she was thinking, how she was feeling. “He needs to know he cannot manipulate us anymore. You had every right to stand your ground against him.” He nodded in the direction of where the High Lord and Lady wandered off to. “He’ll be fine.”

Elain wrapped her arm around his middle, letting him tug her to one of the long sofas.

“We need details,” Nesta said, perching on the armrest of a low back chair that Cassian currently occupied. “How did this happen? When did it start?”

“Nesta,” Mor cooed. “That’s not fair. Start with where.”

They grinned shyly, launching into a very brief, family-friendly version of how they became a couple. It was nice to sit and relax with their family in a normal-like setting. One where they were freely allowed to touch each other, hold hands and show affection. It was both greatly satisfying and surprisingly odd.

Neither Feyre nor Rhys returned in the half-hour timeframe they sat there until a knock sounded on the front door. There was a muffled conversation and then they both reappeared in the sitting room with a young female. Or young by fae standards. She was likely older than Elain. Much older, in fact.

She smiled at them. “Hello, Lady Elain. Lord Azriel.”

Her husband blanched at the name. “Just Azriel, please,” he corrected, never one for titles. Especially when he didn’t feel like he deserved it. Another thing they would have to work on.

“Azriel,” the healer repeated, nodding. “My name is Althea. You can call me Thea if you would like.” She really was lovely. Raven-colored hair, uptilted eyes framed with thick, dark lashes. Stunningly bright, blue eyes. Honey-brown skin glowed in the late sunsetting rays. Her voice was soft yet somehow so full of wisdom.

Elain took to her immediately.

“I’ve been told you’re about two months along into your pregnancy, correct?”

A blush stained her cheeks. “That’s correct, yes. I’m not sure the exact date, but it should be right around there.”

Thea nodded. “And you haven’t seen a healer yet?”

She shook her head.

The female smiled kindly. “That’s quite all right. Why don’t I just take a peek and see how everything is looking. Would you like to do this here or somewhere more private?”

Elain glanced at Azriel, hesitating. “Uh..”

“I’ll be checking everything over your dress,” she confirmed.

Azriel brushed his thumb over her knuckles in support. It was her decision, one he would let her make and be happy with. “I suppose here is fine.”

“Very well, can I have you lie here on the sofa?”

Az was up and kneeling by her head, wings spread and lifted off the ground to offer Elain some semblance of privacy. He laced one of their hands together, the other stroking her brow.

Thea moved to kneel next to him, careful of the delicate membranes from his Illyrian display. Her hands glowed as she hovered them over her torso, face scrunched in concentration.

It was only minutes of her working, but it felt like agonizing hours as Elain’s nerves kicked into high gear.

“Oh,” the healer finally said, eyes still closed.

“What is it?” Az asked, worry lining his face. “Is something wrong with the baby? Do you anticipate a complicated birth?”

She knew he was dreading the latter question. Terrified of it. She had been too. Elain gripped his hand tighter.

The light faded from Thea’s hands and she looked at him. “I sense no issues and Lady Elain shows no signs of having a complicated birth.”

The Seer and the shadowsinger glanced towards each other and then returned their attention to the healer. “If it’s not about the birth or the health of the baby, what’s the issue?” she asked, worry churning in her gut.

Thea’s lips curled up at the corner of her mouth. “It’s not an issue, per se, but have you two ever discussed the possibility of having twins?”

Eyes wide, their heads shot towards each other and then looked back at Thea. “TWINS?” they exclaimed in unison.

~~~~~

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125 notes · View notes

gorl-power · 2 years

Note

Fluffy Elriel prompt: their baby wrapped his little hand around Azriel's finger

Written with the masterful @theladyofdeath 💜

WC: 539

***

It was just before three a.m. when a piercing cry woke Azriel up from his deep sleep. He shot up, eyes still groggy as he turned the volume down on the baby monitor and looked over at his wife.

Elain was already swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress, the movements natural by this point of parenthood.

“I got it,” Azriel said, before she could stand. “Go back to sleep.”

She yawned and shook her head. “He’s probably hungry.”

Azriel was already making his way out of the room as he said in a gentle voice, “I’ll warm up what’s in the freezer. Sleep.”

He didn’t wait to hear Elain’s reply, but the groaning of the mattress was telling. He was across the hall in a matter of steps, following the sounds of his son’s cries by muscle memory. First, he’d try to calm him by holding him, then he’d move on to rocking, bouncing, a diaper change, and lastly, a feeding. Yawning, Azriel resigned himself to being awake for the next thirty minutes. He reached into the bassinet and lifted the baby out, gently shushing his cries as he cradled him against his chest.

So tiny. Even though it had been nearly three weeks since they’d brought Alexander home, Azriel was still floored by how tiny he was every time he held him.

The rocking, bouncing, and diaper change did very little. Hoping Elain was able to go back to sleep, Azriel carried Alexander into the kitchen and took a bag of breast milk out of the freezer. After warming up a bowl of water, he dropped the pack inside to let it thaw and warm.

“Sorry, buddy,” Azriel began, walking into the living room while the bowl of water worked its magic. “Ran out of fridge milk and mommy needs the sleep. We’ll have to wait a few minutes to eat.”

Alexander’s cries had turned to whimpers as they snuggled up on the couch.

One of his little arms had come free of his swaddle, as he was prone to do, and Azriel brushed a finger along the back of his son’s hand. That hand raised up, reaching blindly, and grabbed. It wrapped around Azriel’s scarred finger.

His throat tightened and he held his breath, not daring to move. Azriel had never imagined he would experience this joy, would have this life. He wanted to savor every moment he could.

Alexander had calmed as he held onto his father, his breathing evening out and soon, he was fast asleep in his arms. It was a matter of a few minutes to lay him back in his bed, get him reswaddled, and put the thawing milk in the fridge for his next feeding.

With an exhausted sigh, Azriel collapsed back into bed, curling up next to Elain’s sleeping figure.

Just as he was falling back asleep, Elain’s soft voice filled the silence. “Happily back asleep?”

“Mhmm.” Azriel put an arm around her and pulled her closely back into him. “He’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” Elain breathed. “We did pretty good.”

Azriel huffed a laugh and rested his forehead against her shoulder as he fell back into a deep, peaceful sleep.

This time, it almost lasted until sunrise.

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gorl-power · 2 years

Note

Classic one bed left trope - ELRIEL

..... @snelbz and I are suckers for a classic one bed left trope. Enjoy.

Azriel walked into the cabin and nearly dropped his bag. The place was massive and beautifully decorated. He’d never been to the mountains before, at least not this far up, not on an overnight trip. But, when his group of friends asked him to go along with them, even though they were all couples, he couldn’t say no. It was time for him to take some time off of work, time for him to do something for himself.

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.”

Elain’s laughter echoed through the cabin as Azriel rolled them over, only to perfectly pleasure her once more.

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