Elriel Garden @elrielgarden - Tumblr Blog

May 2, 2022

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

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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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