ASHES OF AUTUMN, BLOOD OF NIGHT
Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s sister I Completed
Summary: She survived fifty years Under the Mountain. Prythian survived by forgetting her. Found unclaimed and broken-winged, Rhysand's lost sister is taken into the Autumn Court-not as a guest, but as leverage. Bound to Eris Vanserra through survival and strategy, she must learn how to exist in a world where protection has a price and power is never freely given. Masks hide faces. Festivals become battlefields. And Autumn does not burn kindly.
Warnings: Trauma, PTSD, Past abuse/torture, manipulation, Violence, abandonment, smut, slight language, emotional tension
Part 13 - The Throne That Chose Fire
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Y/N, alone, could feel it too—the ache, the pull, the undeniable truth that no mask, no restraint, no carefully crafted control could ever hide. The mate bond had snapped into place, claiming them both, whispering promises they were too stubborn to voice… for now.
The corridor felt too narrow.
She stood there long after Eris disappeared, her pulse refusing to settle, her lips still warm where his had been. The bond thrummed low in her chest—not wild, not frantic, but steady. Like something that had always been there, waiting for permission to breathe.
She pressed a hand to her sternum.
Footsteps echoed distantly guards shifting, nobles murmuring somewhere beyond stone walls but none of it mattered. Something had changed. Not just between them.
The bond did not drag her forward. It did not pull her like a leash. It waited.
That was what terrified her most.
The summons came at dawn.
A single Autumn guard at her door.
“The High Lord requests your presence.”
The title slid through her ribs like steel.
She dressed without assistance. Crimson silk. Gold at her wrists. Hair loose down her back. No mask.
If Beron meant to make this spectacle, she would not appear diminished.
When she entered the throne room, the air felt sharpened.
Rhys stood along the right flank of the hall, expression carved from restraint. Azriel shadowed him, unreadable.
Eris stood at the base of the dais.
Beron remained seated above them all.
He did not rise immediately.
When his gaze settled on her, it did not linger on her beauty.
It assessed her stability.
“You’re steadier,” Beron said at last.
“Yes,” she replied evenly.
It was impossible to tell.
Descended one step at a time.
The throne room felt smaller with every footfall.
“You survived circumstances that remove weaker creatures,” he said calmly. “Impressive.”
He stopped two steps above her.
“You stand beside my son now.”
A murmur tremored through the hall.
Beron’s gaze shifted to Eris.
“You mistake proximity for power.”
Beron stepped down the final step.
“You are attached,” Beron said to Eris.
“I am aligned,” Eris corrected.
Beron’s eyes returned to her.
“Attachment destabilizes succession.”
“And cruelty rots it,” she answered quietly.
Beron studied her longer this time.
Then, with the calmness of someone testing the temperature of water—
He reached for her wrist.
He simply extended his hand to take control.
Beron’s hand halted in midair.
The heat did not burn him.
“You will not touch her,” Eris said.
Beron lowered his hand slowly.
He turned his full attention to his son.
Silence pressed heavy against marble.
“You believe you are ready.”
Beron’s eyes shifted—briefly—to her.
“No,” Eris said. “In spite of you.”
Beron straightened fully.
Flame surged—not wild, not raging—but honed.
It struck clean through Beron’s chest.
No scream tore through the room.
Beron looked down at the fire with distant curiosity.
“Efficient,” he said quietly.
Ash drifted to the marble.
Autumn magic stirred like something ancient waking.
The court fell to their knees.
Eris did not look at the ashes.
The power settled into his spine as if it had always belonged there.
But she did not speak publicly.
She did not claim him before a watching court.
Instead, she sat on his lap as everyone bowed.
The grand hall of the Autumn Court's palace echoed with emptiness, the once-crowded space now stripped bare of its mourners and decorations. Beron's funeral had been a farce—a hurried scattering of ashes into the wind, as if the High Lord had been nothing more than dust to be erased. Y/N, the newly crowned High Lady, had watched it all with a quiet resolve, her heart steady amid the shifting powers. The bond between her and Eris had always simmered beneath the surface, but today, in the wake of his father's removal, it felt like a deliberate flame, one they both tended with intention.
She wandered the corridors, her deep crimson gown whispering against the stone floors, the fabric hugging her curves in a way that spoke of quiet strength rather than seduction. The weight of the crown was still new, but it sat comfortably on her shoulders. Seeking solitude—or perhaps him—she stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the endless sea of red and gold leaves, the autumn wind threading through them like fingers in hair.
Eris stood alone at the railing, his broad back to her, russet hair catching the fading light. He didn't turn as she approached, but his posture eased slightly, sensing her presence through the bond.
"You didn't hesitate," she said, her voice soft but clear, cutting through the rustle of leaves below.
He turned to face her then, his amber eyes meeting hers without the usual mask of cunning. His expression wasn't cruel. It wasn't conflicted. It was clean—raw and unburdened, like the sky after a storm.
"He was cruel," Eris said, his tone even, factual. "I removed him."
Y/N studied him, searching for cracks in that clarity, but found none. The man before her was the High Lord now, forged in fire and choice, not inheritance alone.
"You don't feel anything?"
Silence stretched between them, the wind carrying the faint scent of smoke and earth. The bond warmed gently in her chest—not demanding, not possessive, but waiting, patient as the turning seasons.
She stepped closer, the balcony's cool stone grounding her. "Eris."
His eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of heat breaking through the calm.
"I will not accept the bond because it exists."
She swallowed, her heart steadying as the words formed. "I accept it because I choose you."
The words were quiet. Private. Just for him.
The bond surged—not violently, not possessively. Settling. Locking into place like a door finally closed against the wind.
Eris stepped toward her slowly, his hand rising to cup her cheek, thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "You are not mine because magic tied you to me," he murmured, voice low and intimate. "You are mine because you stayed."
"And you are mine because you chose me over blood."
His jaw tightened faintly, a muscle ticking under her gaze.
"I would choose you again."
She reached up, fingers brushing his jaw, feeling the faint stubble there. "And again?"
He kissed her then—not sharp, not claiming. Slow. Certain. A seal.
His lips moved against hers with deliberate tenderness, tongue tracing the seam of her mouth until she parted for him, letting him deepen the kiss. Heat bloomed low in her belly, the bond amplifying every brush of skin, every shared breath. When he pulled back, his voice was quieter than she had ever heard it.
Not smug. Not strategic. Just truth.
Her breath trembled, eyes locking on his. "I know."
And beneath the Autumn sky—with ashes scattered and power reborn—the High Lord and the High Lady stood not because they were bound. But because they had chosen each other. And nothing—not Night, not Autumn, not blood, not fire—would unmake that choice.
But choice demanded action, and the fire in Eris's eyes promised more than words. He drew her closer, backing her against the balcony's stone balustrade, the wind whipping her hair as his mouth found hers again. This kiss ignited, tongues tangling with growing urgency, his hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips, pulling her flush against the hard length of his cock straining through his trousers.
"Y/N," he breathed against her lips, voice roughening with desire. "I've waited too long to claim this—to show you how deeply I choose you."
She arched into him, fingers threading through his russet hair, tugging lightly to angle his head for better access. "Then show me, Eris. Make me feel it."
With a low growl, he spun her to face the view, her hands bracing on the railing as the autumn leaves swirled below. His body pressed behind hers, cock grinding against her ass through the layers of fabric. One hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back gently but firmly, exposing her neck to his teeth. He nipped the skin there, not breaking it, but marking with heat that sent sparks racing down her spine.
"You're mine by choice," he whispered, hot breath on her ear. "But tonight, I'll fuck you like the queen you are—remind you why you chose this cock, this fire."
The degradation was light, laced with reverence, making her pussy clench with need. She pushed back against him, feeling his hardness throb. "Yes—fuck me like you mean it."
Eris's free hand yanked up the skirts of her gown, bunching the crimson silk at her waist, exposing her bare ass to the cool air. No undergarments— a deliberate choice for the day of reckoning. His fingers traced the cleft, dipping lower to find her already wet, pussy lips slick and swollen. He groaned, two fingers sliding inside her without preamble, curling to stroke her inner walls.
"So wet for me already," he rasped, pumping slowly, thumb circling her clit. "My perfect, chosen slut—dripping at the thought of my cock stretching you."
Y/N moaned, hips rocking back to take him deeper, the bond pulsing with shared arousal. The wind carried her gasps away, but Eris heard every one, his grip tightening in her hair as he added a third finger, scissoring to prepare her. Fire magic flickered at his fingertips—not burning, but warming her from within, a gentle heat that made her walls flutter around him.
"Eris—please," she begged, voice breathless.
He withdrew his fingers, the wet sound obscene in the open air, and freed his cock from his trousers. Thick and veined, the head nudged her entrance, teasing her folds before he thrust in with one smooth, deep stroke. Y/N cried out, pussy clenching around his girth as he filled her completely, balls pressing against her clit.
"Fuck," he hissed, stilling to let her adjust, hand in her hair keeping her arched. "This cunt—made for me. Chosen for me."
He began to move, hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm, each thrust driving her against the railing. The stone bit into her palms, but the pleasure overrode it—his cock hitting that spot inside her with precision, fire magic trailing along his length to heighten every slide, warming her core without harm. She felt claimed, but empowered, her choice echoing in every moan.
Eris released her hair to wrap an arm around her waist, hand splaying over her belly as he pulled her back onto him harder. "Touch your clit," he commanded, voice dark with need. "Make yourself come on my cock—show me how you choose this pleasure."
Y/N obeyed, fingers finding her swollen nub, circling frantically as he pounded into her. The dual sensations built fast, her orgasm cresting like a wildfire. "Eris—I'm—"
"Come, my love," he urged, thrusting deeper. "Squeeze my cock—milk me."
She shattered, pussy spasming around him, juices coating his shaft as waves of ecstasy rolled through her. Eris groaned, but held back, pulling out with a slick pop. He turned her to face him, eyes blazing with restrained hunger.
"On your knees," he said, not a order but an invitation, fisting his cock slick with her arousal.
Y/N sank down, the stone cool against her skin, mouth watering at the sight of him—flushed head leaking pre-cum. She leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap at the tip, tasting herself on him. Eris's hand returned to her hair, guiding her gently at first, then firmer as she took him deeper, lips stretching around his thickness.
"That's it," he murmured, hips rocking forward. "Suck your mate's cock—take it like the fierce queen who chose me. But you're my dirty little secret too—gagging on me out here where anyone could see."
The words sent fresh heat to her core, and she hollowed her cheeks, bobbing her head, tongue swirling the underside. Eris thrust deeper, hitting the back of her throat, her gags muffled as saliva dripped down her chin. He face-fucked her with controlled snaps, fire magic warming his cock to make her throat tingle, heightening the sensation without burn.
"Fuck—your mouth," he growled, pace quickening. "Swallow me whole—be my good, chosen whore."
Tears pricked her eyes from the depth, but she took it, hands gripping his thighs, nails digging in. The bond thrummed, sharing his building release. With a final, deep thrust, Eris came, hot spurts flooding her mouth, coating her tongue. She swallowed greedily, milking him until he shuddered, pulling out to smear the last drops across her lips.
He hauled her up, kissing her fiercely, tasting himself on her. "Beautiful," he whispered, lifting her onto the wide balustrade, her ass perched on the edge. Legs wrapping around his waist, he aligned his still-hard cock and slid back into her pussy, the new angle making her gasp.
"Again," she demanded, arms around his neck. "Fuck me until I can't think—until it's just us."
Eris obliged, thrusting up into her with powerful strokes, hands gripping her ass to hold her steady. Fire play intensified—tiny, harmless flames dancing along his palms, warming her skin as he kneaded her cheeks, one finger circling her tight asshole teasingly. "This ass is mine too," he said, pressing the digit in slowly, stretching her alongside his cock in her pussy. "Chosen to take all of me."
The double penetration—finger in her ass, cock in her cunt—pushed her toward another climax, the warmth of his magic making her burn from the inside. She clawed at his back, biting his shoulder as she came again, walls pulsing, squirting around him.
Eris followed, burying deep and spilling inside her, cum filling her pussy in thick ropes. They clung together, breaths mingling, the wind cooling their sweat-slicked skin.
As the aftershocks faded, he didn't pull away, instead holding her close, forehead to hers. "I choose you," he repeated, soft and certain.
"And I you," she replied, the bond a steady flame now, eternal as autumn.
Beneath the sky, with leaves falling like confetti, they stood unbreakable—not by fate, but by will.
AN: As this series soon comes to an end I would love to say thank you for reading AOA BON, Just two more chapters left. I’m still trying to find what to write for the bonus or if there should be a bonus. Anyways Thank you for reading🍂
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