Azriel’s eyes shot open when he sensed a presence in his room, instantly reaching for the dagger on his night stand. He looked around wildly but there was nothing. No one.
His shadows were tense. Alert. They sensed it too.
Azriel stood from the bed cautiously, bare feet on cold stone. His shadows instantly shielded him. If there was something in this room he would be invisible to them now.
He crept around the room, taking in every inch. Every shadowy corner. He looked behind the curtains. In the massive wardrobes. Under his bed, in his bathroom. Nothing. He walked to the balcony—that feeling of another being there rushed over him. He stepped out, the night breeze chilled his skin instantly and his eyes narrowed.
Nothing.
Then he felt it.
He gasped, dagger dropping to the ground as his hands clutched at his chest.
There was a tug. A tug right in the center of his chest, a tug in that black hole that had been there for months.
He fell to his knees. He couldn’t breathe. His chest was pounding.
“Rhys!” He hissed to his shadows, “Go get Rhys!”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
One hundred and eighty days.
Twenty six weeks.
Six Months.
Six months since Azriel lost the love of his life. His beautiful, sweet mate that he had foolishly turned away—who in her final moments may not have believed his love for her.
He would never forget the look on her face when that damned hyber soldier shoved a sword through her, how his shadows tried to desperately tend to her wounds as he tried to find help, the way she clung to him as her blood soaked through his armor. He remembered it, all of it. Every touch, every look, every whispered word from their last moments together played on repeat in his head.
It was all he dreamed about.
That was probably why he hadn’t left his room much the last six months. All he wanted was sleep because that’s where she was. Even if it was only a glimpse, even if the dream turned into a nightmare he didn’t care. If he could see her that’s all he cared about.
And when he wasn’t sleeping?
Well, he just laid in bed, his shadows curled against him as he stared at the roof or hid under his blanket and considered leaving this earth behind until sleep finally consumed him once again.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Violet blues were in front of him and Azriel immediately reached for him—scarred hand fisting in the dark material of his shirt.
“Az—”
“I can’t,” Azriel gasped, his shadows in a flurry around him. “I can’t breathe, Rhys. I can’t. I—”
“You can, come on, you have to take a breath. You have to calm down before you pass out,” Rhys said, grabbing him—one hand on his shoulder the other on the side of his face.
“Breathe. Come on, Az, breathe with me brother…”
He couldn’t. Rhys' words were drowned out by the ringing in his ears. He gasped again, doubling over again as that tugging in his chest began again. Feeling as if he was being shredded apart from the inside.
Azriel met Rhys’ eyes, saw the panic there, caught just a glimpse of Cassian as he landed on the balcony behind Rhys. The distant concerned shrill of Feyre’s voice. Rhys’ hand left his shoulder, grasping the other side of his face—he looked to be nearly yelling at him, shaking his head at something Cassian said.
His lungs hurt so bad, refusing to take in the air he was desperately trying to breathe. He’s going to pass out, he knows he it, he can feel the lightness in his head as his vision started fading around the edges.
He looked at Rhy again, but this time those violet blues didn’t belong to Rhys.
No. The face looking back at him was the one he’s been searching for since the last time he saw it all those months ago. The one his heart called out for. He reached out, scarred fingertips tracing along her cheek, his lungs finally filling with the breath he was so desperate for.
“Stella…” he gasped as he lost consciousness.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
It was the midst of battle when he felt that tug in his chest, worry spreading through his chest. He shoved the dead soldier off his sword and spun around looking for her. She tugged again. He felt panicked, something felt wrong—had been feeling wrong all morning.
When his eyes met hers, she tugged that bond between him and he felt it. She had the same awful gut feeling he had. He nodded in confirmation, tugging that bond between them—the first time he’d acknowledged it.
He almost smiled at her, almost urged her to come closer when a figure suddenly appeared behind her.
No!
But the words wouldn’t come out. All he could feel was dread. He tugged that bond again trying to alert her. Why couldn’t he move? He felt frozen in his spot. He tugged that bond as hard as he could, hoping, praying to the mother that maybe he could pull her to him.
His entire body ran cold as that Hybern soldier appeared right behind her. The he felt it as it happened, watched as that sword pierced right through her stomach.
No. No. No. No! He was screaming, fighting that invisible force was holding him.
He watched her face crumple as she looked down at the sword impaling her. She looked back at him, a gasping sob ripped from her throat as that soldier pulled his blade from her body.
“NO!” Azriel’s shout left his throat, so loud it shook the earth around them.
He watched as she touched that bloody wound in shock—only half paying attention to the fact that Cassian had just killed that soldier but Stella was falling. Her wings had given out and she was plummeting towards the earth—
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
He woke with a gasp, nearly toppling from the bed he'd laid on.
“Hey, hey, Az,” A voice echoed before a hand came down on his shoulder. He looked for the owner of that voice, finding his brother there—a look of concern on Rhys’ face.
“What the hell happened?” Azriel breathed, rubbing his hands over his face roughly, his body feeling fatigued and weak.
“We could ask you the same question,” the owner of that voice was Cassian.
“Azriel, I’ve given you time. I know it's been hard but it’s time to talk about it. You can’t keep living like this and I can’t keep watching you waste away,” Rhys said, firm and commanding.
Azriel looked at him, then Cassian. Felt the tears in his eyes, saw the worry in theirs.
“Fuck,” he breathed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. Sat there silently for a moment.
He didn’t see the look his brother shared, the way they silently communicate their concerns to one another.
“I don’t know…” Azriel started, thinking of the words he wanted to say. “I don’t know if I want to live without her anymore.”
The weight of those words was heavy, hitting his brothers hard.
“Is that why you’ve been in your room? Refusing to eat or train? Because you…because you want to die?” Rhys asked, his voice still strong but there was something else there—a silent fear.
“Not entirely,” Azriel shook his head. “Three months ago I started having dreams of her. She’s all I think about in my waking moments and she’s all I see in my dreams. Sometimes they are horrible dreams but I—I stay in bed because when I am awake all I remember is that she is gone but when I sleep she is still with me. I can see her, I can hear her laugh, I can hold her in my arms, kiss her, tell her—tell her I love her and want to be her mate. And I just—”
A sob cut him off as the tears fell freely from his eyes.
“Az,” Rhys breathed, reaching out to grab his brother, wrapping him in a hug the best he could from the side.
Looking to Cassian he saw those hazel eyes brimmed with tears, their brother's pain so strong it hurt them too.
“I miss her so much,” Azriel sobbed, clutching to Rhys.
Cassian couldn’t stand there any longer, moving to the bed and sitting, reaching out and wrapping his arms around his brothers. He wasn’t afraid to let his tears flow as they all sat there together, trying to bring whatever comfort they could to their broken brother.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
It’s three days later when Azriel wakes, his body so exhausted from crying and speaking his feelings that he just slept and slept. Only dreaming of his girl. Not a single nightmare in sight.
As he was laying in bed, the dreams circled over and over in his head. He felt as if she was trying to tell him something, that maybe wherever she was she was still trying to be there for him.
She wouldn’t want this for him. She wouldn’t want him to lay in bed wasting away. She wouldn’t want him to die alone in his room. He couldn’t live his life with her. But he could live his life for her.
So he got up. It was slow, his shadows helped him. His muscles and joints hurt. His wings felt incredibly heavy. And…gods, was that smell him?
He looked towards the window. If he bathed now maybe he could have breakfast with his family. He missed them.
His brothers. His high lady and her sisters. Mor. And even Amren.
He was slow to move to the bathroom—he hadn’t noticed a few days ago or even that night he thought someone was in his room but now? Fuck, he felt it all now.
The bath was already steaming and he had half a mind to praise the house for that but his mental capacity wasn’t quite there yet. Instead he let his shadows undress him and balance him as he stepped into the large deep bath, immediately submerging himself in the warmth, sharing the weight of his body with the water took off a huge strain from his muscles.
Step one: get strength back.
He almost felt too weak to even bathe but while he washed himself his shadows took over the responsibility of washing his hair.
When he finally pulled himself from the water a fresh warm towel was waiting for him with a stack of clean clothes. He paused mid drying off when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
His skin was dull and pale, dark bags under his eyes that looked nearly sunken in. A thick, scruffy beard covered his chin and jaw and his hair fell well past his ears, nearly resting on his shoulders. The majority of his muscle definition was gone and he looked…fragile. Like he could break so very easily. His wings drooped behind him and when he tried to tighten them it was painful.
“Fuck,” he breathed, shaking his head. He hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten, how much his health—mentally and physically had declined.
Azriel brushed his teeth then grabbed the scissors from the counter, grabbing chunks of the beard off and snipping them off. He left some facial hair, and half ass style the hair on his head—he refused to go in front of his family for the first time in months looking so unkempt.
The clothes were simple and he didn’t bother with shoes. He stood at the door of his bedroom for a moment. He didn’t remember the last time he left this room. The little he had eaten had come directly from the house or his shadows.
He pulled open the door and stepped out. There was no one in the halls but his shadows clung to him protectively. They hadn’t spoken at all, merely clung to him. He began down the hall, dreading the stairs knowing they would kill his legs but he had to do it. He had to.
He was moving slowly but he could sense his family in the dining room on the level below. He held the railing and as he finally reached the last stair he took a moment to compose himself. He could feel a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin from the effort it took to descend the steps. His thighs and calves burned. And he had to take a few breaths to calm his racing heart.
He wasn’t sure the last time he ever felt like this. All he knew is he didn’t want to keep feeling like this.
Taking another breath he nodded to himself, placing a hand on the door and pushing it up. He was silent and as he looked around the dining room he wasn’t sure how he felt, but they were there—everyone except Amren anyway.
“Azriel,” Mor gasps, her brown eyes widening as a range of emotion washed over her face.
Every eye in the room turned to him. He lifted his head, tucked his wings and squared his shoulders back. He would not falter. He would be strong. He could do this. So he walked over, he took his normal seat between Cassian and Rhys, still open and ready for him.
He hadn’t yet spoken a word before a plate of food appeared in front of him. Looking up he met the eyes of each person at the table, varying looks but not of pity, sadness or contempt. No all of those eyes, the eyes of his family held pride, love and respect.
So he reached out, grabbed his fork and began to eat.
Azriel spoke to no one and no one spoke to him. Their conversation continued and he felt lighter listening to their voices. When he got back to his room, he fell into bed and he cried. He cried until he fell asleep.
But when he woke up the next morning, he got out of bed and joined his family for breakfast one again.
Firstly, username is mental. Secondly, Silent One is phenomenal and I’m going mental with every new chapter. Thirdly, can I please be added to the taglist. Thank you
I’m sorry I’m just responding to this! Life has been so busy but thank you so much! You’re on the tags list and I appreciate you reading my work 🩵
Summary: Cassandra visits Vale. They get the information they need and Cassandra…gets revenge and we see a glimpse of her powers lurking under the surface.
Authors Note: All likes, comments and reblogs are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
“What’s going on?” Cassandra asked, looking at Rhysand then Azriel.
“Is everything okay?” Morrigan asks, setting her bags down, Cassandra following suit.
“We tried to question Vale today,” Rhysand responded, straightening out his suit jacket. Glancing at Azriel, who still wore that look of pure death.
“Tried?” Morrigan asks, her own arms folding across her chest.
Rhysand took in a deep breath, looking at Cassandra, a slight frown on his face.
“He said he’ll only answer our questions if you’re in the room—”
“No.” Morrigan cuts him off immediately, straightening her spine.
“Mor,” Rhysand warns.
“You’re actually considering it? You would let her be in a room with that—that monster,” She snarled, stepping closer to her friend’s side.
Cassanda’s eyes met Azriel’s again, less intense as if to comfort her but his shadows still a fury around him.
“He wouldn’t get anywhere near her. It’s not your decision, Morrigan,” Rhysand said, mouth in a tight line.
“It’s not yours either, it’s Cassandra’s,” Azriel said, “He doesn’t have to touch her to cause more trauma. You do not have to see him if you don’t want to.”
“But it would be a great help to easily get the information from him,” Rhysand said, giving his brother a warning look.
Cassandra chewed on her bottom lip. Morrigan was still standing partially in front of her, legs spread apart, arms crossed as if she would fight Rhysand if he tried to step towards her. Rhysand had an expecting look on his face and Cassian looked…awkward? Maybe he didn’t like his friends arguing this way. Cassandra knew she didn’t.
“What would I do, just stand there? Would I—would I have to talk to him?” She asked, and Rhys shook his head.
“No, of course not and yes you would just be there in the room,” Rhysand answers and Azriel hisses.
“That is not the full truth,” He says, siphons surging on the back of his hands, shadows darting in every direction.
“Azriel—”
“Tell me, Rhysand, please. I can handle it. I want to help but I have to know what I’m getting into,” She said, straightening herself out, stepping from behind Morrigan. How could she expect them to believe she could handle things if she stayed cowering behind Morrigan or Azriel? She could do this.
Azriel fixed her with a look, as if he was proud of her actions.
“He initially asked for Neema. She shut that down quickly. He then specifically asked for you because he…wants to look at you,” Rhysand explains and Cassandra felt her stomach flip, nausea overcoming her.
“I can get the answers we need in other ways without traumatizing her further,” Azriel growls at his brother, noticing her distress, “Cassandra, you don’t have to—”
“Look at me,” She repeated breathlessly. Blinking her eyes furiously to fight the images trying to flash before her. “That’s what he used to do. He couldn’t touch me because I would be damaged goods—he’d get less money for me. So he would make me stand there unclothed and look at me while he touched himself or Neema. Just let me look at you is what he would say.”
She heard the harsh breath Rhysand let out, she didn’t look his way.
“Cassandra,” It’s Azriel’s voice in her head but she shakes her head, breathing deeply.
In. Out.
In. Out.
In. Out.
She opens her eyes and looks into those hazel ones, patients and concern swirling there.
“You’ll be there?” She asked, and he nodded instantly.
“Of course, I’ll be there,” He answers. She nods to herself. Thinking.
“What happens to him after he’s questioned?” She ask, would he be let go? Locked away?
“He’ll be killed,” Rhysand answers bluntly.
“Good.” Is her answer. “I’ll do it.”
“You’re sure?” Azriel asks, worry creasing those brows while a relieved look comes over Rhysand’s face.
“Yes,” She answered. “When?”
“The sooner the better,” Rhysand said, and though he still looked relieved that Cassandra agreed she could see the apology in those violet eyes.
“I would like to put my things away first,” She said, Azriel crossing the short distance between them.
“I’ll help you bring your bags up,” He offered, giving her no room to protest before he scooped her bags up easily.
As they entered the house she could hear Mor as she began yelling at Rhysand.
Azriel let her lead the way to her bedroom, she was getting fairly good at navigating the halls. She liked to roam around in the middle of the night when everyone else was sleeping. This house was huge but she was sure she could get to the main areas of the house with little to no help.
When they got to her room she pushed the door open and walked in. She looked over her shoulder to see Azriel standing at the door. She raised an eyebrow in question and the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly.
“I can’t come in, remember,” He says, and she was glad to see some of that light amusement return to his eyes.
“Oh, well, come in,” she said, he looked skeptical for a moment before slowly extending his leg through the doorway before stepping fully in.
“Rhys doesn’t mess around with his wards,” He says when he notices the look on her face. “If you hadn’t invited me in and I tried to just walk in I would have ricochet off it straight into the wall back there.”
Cassandra let out a breathy laugh, gesturing to the bed for Azriel to put the bags down.
“Did you have a good day with Mor?” He asked gently and she turned to him with a small smile and nodded. She was grateful he asked. Talking about the day would distract her from what they were going to do after this.
“It was amazing, Azriel! I've never experienced anything like that. It was a bit overwhelming if I’m honest but Morrigan made it easy to enjoy myself,” She smiled again as he perched himself on the end of the bed, his attention focused fully on her. She grabbed one of the bags pulling it over—the one with all of the pastries in it.
“We went to this lovely little bakery,” she started, pulling out various treats. “Morrigan told me to pick out anything I wanted—everything looked and smelled so good, it was hard to choose.”
“It does smell delicious,” Azriel agreed, eyes scanning over the arrangement of food laid out on the bed, wrapped in papers and boxes.
“These two bags are just some clothes Morrigan helped me pick out, that one is a gown, I’m still not sure what I would need it for but it is very pretty,” She told him, grabbing that bag, unzipping it to show him the gown, the one that perfectly matched his siphons. If he noticed he didn’t comment.
“That is very pretty, you could wear it for Starfall coming up,” He said, a small smile on his face when she looked up at him.
“Do you think it would be possible for me to visit my mothers grave that day?” She asked, as Starfall was one of the few good memories she had with her mother.
“Of course, you never have to ask, we can go visit her any time you’d like,” Azriel promises, “What else did you get?”
Cassandra smiled at him, showing him the rest of her haul from the day. He snickered at the books but just as Morrigan had, said he would be more than happy to help her learn to read. It made her happier than he probably realized.
After she finished showing him everything he stepped out of the room so she could freshen up—change her clothes and mentally prepare herself.
She changed into an outfit that was a bit too big for her. Long sleeves and long pants. She didn’t want him to see her skin, she didn’t want him to see her at all. But what he did to Neema? To so many other girls? To her? She couldn’t sit by and not help get answers, justice.
She knew Azriel noted the outfit she was wearing but chose not to say anything.
“We’re going to winnow there, are you okay with that? We haven’t done it since that first night,” Azriel asked and Cassandra simply nodded, stepping closer to him, tucking her wings close to her back as he wrapped an arm around her.
The place they arrive at was beautiful yet terrifying.
“Where are we?” She asked, looking around. He doesn’t answer out loud as he leads her down a dark avenue.
“This is the Hewn City. The rest of Prythian does not know of the existence of Velaris. They believe Rhysand only rules over this part of the Night Court—the Court of Nightmares.”
“Oh.” Is her answer, she tries not to look at anything or anyone as thet move through the streets of this underground city—no, not underground, inside of a mountain. She wondered if it was the same mountain the House of a wind was on—she would ask later.
The walk was mostly silent. They walked across many bridges and flights of stairs. Going through most of the city. Down and around and down some more. Her legs and feet hurt and just when she was ready to tell Azriel she couldn’t go anymore they halted.
Cassandra looked at him in question. He simply nodded towards the wall, she didn’t see anything.
“He’s behind here,” Azriel explains, his eyes scanning her face.
“Okay,” she nodded slowly, not totally understanding since there was no door.
“Rhys will be there the entire time. Cassian will be there the entire time. I will be with you the entire time. Don't be fearful. Don’t let him scare you. If you find yourself feeling uncomfortable tell me immediately and I’ll get you out of there. He’s chained up, he will not lay a finger on you. If he even tried he would die,” Azriel promised. She looked up at him, unease filling her and took in a deep breath as he added , “Would you feel safer if I gave you this?”
She looked down, in his outstretched hand laid a black hilted dagger with a sharp and shiny blade.
She reached out, taking it gently from his hand.
“I’ve never used one before,” she whispered, looking down at the knife in her hand.
“You won’t need to use it, but if you did Truth Teller wouldn’t let you miss,” Azriel spoke confidently. “You ready?”
She looked up at him and nodded her head.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
Azriel hated this. Hated it. His shadows hissed in ear not to bring her in. To protect her. To grab her and take her back to the House of Wind.
And though he wanted to, he wouldn’t do that to her. She deserved to make her own decisions but this just felt so wrong.
But after he sheathed Truth Teller and tied it around her waist he felt slightly better.
She didn’t know the weight of the dagger, its power or what it meant to him. All that mattered in this moment is it made her feel safe and it gave him some peace of mind that if somehow this piece of shit got through three warriors she had a weapon that could kill.
“Lets go,” he says, offering his hand to her, she places it there gently and much to her surprise they turn to the wall and he led her straight through.
On the other side was a dark hall, no doors, lit only by a few lights and she grasped Azriel’s hand tighter.
“This is where we keep a majority of prisoners that haven’t been sentenced for crimes or are being questioned,” Azriel explained, voice low and quiet.
“Is Kamari here?”
“No, she’s in a cell under the House of Wind. She’s not dangerous—a terrible person yes, but not dangerous to anyone she could potentially interact with. We don’t want this guy anywhere near the females and too many of them live and work at the house. That’s why he’s here. No one can get in here except Rhys, Cassian, myself and anyone we choose to allow in,” Azriel explained, stopping at another seemingly empty stretch of wall. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” she said, fingers twisting at her side. “I’m scared to see him.”
“You don’t need to be scared but do you want to leave?” Azriel asks, taking a step closer to her, ready to scoop her up and take her home.
“No, I want to do this,” she shook her head.
“Okay, he’s right on the other side of this wall,” Azriel explained, trying to prepare her. “When we first walk in, his back will be to us so you don’t have to see his face straight away. You’re welcome to stand but there are chairs if you’d like to sit. Rhysand will be in charge of the interrogation if you believe he’s lying about something or leaving details out don’t hesitate to tell one of us. Rhys says he’ll have communications open so you can talk to him or Cassian easily if you need to. You do not have to speak to this guy but he will try to speak to you. He’s going to want to scare, to tell you all of the things he’s done—he knows what his fate is after we get what we want from him. You have the power here. You say stop then we stop and I take you out of there.”
Azriel watches as she takes a shaky break, closing her eyes to calm herself. When she opens them Azriel is still standing there patiently.
“Okay. Okay, I’m good,” She nods her head in a way that’s reassuring to herself, grazing her hand over Truth Teller before dropping her hands to her side.
She watches as Azriel approaches the wall, stepping through easily as they had done before. Another deep breath, wiping her sweaty palms across her pants before she too walks forward, straight through the wall.
The room is a bit brighter than the hallway and it takes her eyes a moment to adjust before they fix on the figure in the middle of the room. His blue skin and the clothes he’s wearing looks dirty, he’s chained to a chair and his head turns slightly as if sensing she entered the room, but not enough to see her yet. She wanted to cling to the wall and beg Azriel to come back to her side.
But she didn’t.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of cowering.
She knew the three men in this room wouldn’t allow any harm to come to her. She scanned the room, there were two chairs further away from where the male was sitting while Rhysand sat in one directly in front of the male just a few steps away. Cassian stood with his back to a large stone, giving her a small nod when they made eye contact and Azriel stood there behind the man—in a spot she could see him from wherever she chose to stand, a look on his face she hadn’t quite seen before. She could tell only one thing about that look though, he would enjoy killing Vale.
Cassandra made her way to the opposite wall of where she had entered, choosing not to sit but to stand, using the wall as support, keeping her wings tucked as she leaned back against the wall.
“Come on High Lord, give me my sight back now. You said I would be able to see her,” Vale hissed, the sound of his voice like a shot of ice down her spine, she suppressed the reaction easily enough.
Rhysand looked over his shoulder at Cassandra, silently asking her if she was okay, if she was ready. She simply nodded. He waved his hand and those eyes, the ones she still had dreams about suddenly zeroed in on her. It took everything in her to suppress any reaction that time.
A grin spread across his face as his eyes tracked her body. Up and down, taking in every detail.
“Wow. Look at you,” he said, licking his lips, “you look even better than I remember. I…wish I could see more.”
“Yeah, well you can’t,” Cassian is the one to answer.
“What no hello?” Vale grinned again.
“She’s not required to speak to you, that wasn’t part of the deal,” Rhysand’s voice thundered through the room.
“Not that she could anyway” Vale sniggered, nodding his head, eyes still trained on Cassandra. “Alright come on, ask me the questions.”
He sounded bored but Cassandra wasn’t stupid and neither were any of the males in that room. There was fear in those black eyes. He did indeed know his fate.
“How long have you been in the business of purchasing females and selling them to sex houses?” Rhysand asked.
“I don’t know, a year maybe,” Vale groans at the look Rhysand gives home. “Look, man, I drink and smoke myself out every day I lose a good bit of time.”
“I was at the pleasure house with Kamari for 2 years and with him for almost a year.” Cassandra says, and Rhys nods in acknowledgment.
“Wanna think a little harder about that? It’s definitely been more than a year,” Rhysand said, Vale narrowing his eyes into slits.
“How could you possibly know that? Why ask if you’re just gonna say I’m lying?” Vale bares his teeth at Rhysand.
“Why lie in the first place? You know your fate, lying won’t change that. You know I could enter your mind and destroy it in a second while getting the answers I seek. I’m doing you a courtesy by asking this way.”
Vale is silent for a moment before glancing at Cassandra. “Four years.”
“How many women did you buy and sell during that time? How did you find them?” Rhysand asked, Vale took a deep breath, looking up at the roof as if thinking.
“Probably eighty,” He says, Rhys’ face hardens further at that—Cassian’s mouth falling open slightly.
“Eighty women in four years? Or 80 every year for four years?” Rhys asks through clenched teeth.
“Eighty in all four years,” Vale confirms and while it’s a relief, that’s still a lot of women. “Most of them were sold to me by family members who owed me money, but couldn't pay it back so they sold me a daughter, wife, sister instead.”
“How did you learn of these pleasure houses buying females from people like you?” Rhysand asked.
“Word gets around the streets. There’s only three that will buy the females. The Velvet Pearl, Hidden Desires and Lavender house. Kamari recruits men to find the women and sells them for money—usually addicts looking for a fix. She buys her drugs from me, that's how I got started.” Vale explained.
“How many of them did you keep for yourself?” Rhysand asked, and Vale just laughed.
“Not as many as you might think. It never even crossed my mind to have a little fun with the merchandise before selling to the pleasure houses. Neema—she’s the only one I ever kept seeing as she’s my mate and all,” Vale confessed and Cassandra couldn’t stop the gasp she took in.
“That’s right,” Vale grinned. “The bond snapped into place the night her brother sold her to me.”
“And you thought that was the proper way to treat your mate,” Cassian snarls. Vale simply shrugs his shoulders, looking back at Cassandra.
“If she hadn’t been my mate though, I would have kept you,” Vale said, smiling at Cassandra. “Everything I did to her I would have done to you—including removing those horrid wings. Tell me, which one of these bastards got the pleasure of bending you over and fucking you—”
Vale’s rant is cut off when one of Azriel’s shadows wraps around his throat. The blue skinned male chokes, eyes widening.
“I’d watch your fucking mouth if I were you,” Azriel hisses, only letting up his shadow’s grip when Cassandra nods her head at him.
“At least any one of these males could get a woman into their bed without having to rape her,” Cassandra retorts, Cassian snorting out an amused laugh, relaying the message when Vale looked his way, turning back and snarling at Cassandra like a rabid wolf.
The interrogation went on for what felt like hours. Vale answered the questions Rhysand asked. Cassandra confirmed if he was being truthful or not for certain things. And they all stood there as he described every awful, vile, disgusting thing he did to the women he bought and sold. How he had brutalized and assaulted them before selling them off to be salves for pleasure houses.
He knew none of their names. None except Neema. He didn’t even know Cassandra’s name and she was standing right there in front of him.
He did however know the names of all the ones who sold the females—they now had a list of where to start, of how to find the females that had been sold off to the three pleasure houses.
It’s was when they were getting ready to leave that things started going sideways. Azriel had check in many times with Cassandra to make sure she was okay. And she had been, despite this feeling in her stomach, this thrumming that made her skin feel like it was vibrating.
“So, I guess it would be out of line to ask for a turn with you before I go out?” Vale laughed, leering at Cassandra. And it was Cassian’s fist that landed the blow to his face.
“Fuck! You know,” Vale continued with a laugh, blood dripping from his mouth, “your father almost sold me your sister instead. Pretty little thing she is.”
He just wants to rile you up.
He wants to scare you.
He wants a reaction.
“Only he wouldn’t have got as much for her cause she’d had sex with some male. She was used—but man, if he had I would have kept her, too, I would have taken both of you and kept you just like that little bitch in my basement—“
Cassandra snarled and something inside of her snapped. Before anyone could blink she was across the room Truth Teller gripped in her hand and pressed against Vale’s throat as she crouched over him. Black eyes widened in shock—fear. Good. He wasn’t expecting it.
“Cassandra?” Azriel’s concerned voice sounded muffled and far away. She didn’t take her eyes away from the man cowering beneath her.
“She can shield?!” is Cassian's alarmed shout.
“Cassandra?!” Rhys calls out, feeling whatever shield was around her vibrate as he sent a blast of magic into it.
“I don’t think she can hear us, Rhys!” Azriel calls out.
Cassandra could hear them but the look on Vale’s face was too satisfying to look away from. She pressed the dagger harder against his neck, digging it into the skin there, scenting his blood.
“Are you afraid?” She asked, faces only inches apart. She wasn’t sure how she was talking to him but she didn’t care either. Not when the smell of blood mixed with urine as he pissed on himself.
“Please, p—please,” he begged, trying to pull away from the blade digging into his throat.
“Cassandra, come on, let the shield down, love!”
“I remember begging you like that before you took my tongue. I shouldn’t let them kill you, everything you did to me, to Neema, to all those other girls you deserve to have done to you,” she snarls, Truth Teller thrumming in her hand as if encouraging her to slit his throat and watch him bleed out.
“What the hell is happening, Rhys?” Cassian’s voice rings outside of that shield.
“Fuck!” Azriel hisses as he tries to touch that shield, his hand bouncing off of it immediately.
“I should take your eyes,” she declared. “So that you can never look at anyone again. I should take your tongue the way you took mine. Chop off your cock so you can never fuck again. I should do all that and let you live with it every day of your miserable life!”
He cries out, struggling under her and she laughs. Right there in his face she laughs.
This is the male she had been afraid of?
This is the male that tortured her everyday in that basement? This pathetic excuse of a male.
“Absolutely pathetic,” she spits, snarling at him.
She drops Truth Teller from her hand, falling somewhere between their bodies as she grips his head on either side. “Look at me!” She bellows, forcing his eyes to meet hers. Panicked terror looked back at her and she smiled.
“Kill me, just kill me, please!” He begged, thrashing under her, her wings spreading to keep herself stead where she was crouched over him—drowning out the voices beyond the shield. He’d had no remorse for anyone else, he deserved no remorse. She leans down, close to his ear, changing her grip on his head.
“No,” she mouths against his ear as it echoes in his head. Then her thumbs are pressing into those black soulless eyes, his screams echoing around them with nowhere to go, pressing and pressing until they pop. Turning into a bloody mess under her hands. His screams don’t stop as she speaks.
“You’ll never see again,” she said, grabbing Truth Teller once again sliding it along his exposed skin. “You're lucky I don’t take your hands and tongue. I won’t take your life either. You’ll suffer the way me and so many other girls did.”
She slides off of him, his screams turning into whimpering cries.
“Cassandra?” The voice sounded normal again and she looked up, green eyes meeting violet. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” She asked, glancing at the man she had just maimed without a second thought.
“I’m not worried about him, are you okay?” Rhysand asks again, taking a step closer to her.
“I’m okay,” she nods, slipping Truth Teller back into its sheath, not hiding the angry tears that welled in her eyes. “I want him to have to live with what he’s done. Death will be too kind for the offenses he’s committed—for the way he’s violated so many.”
“If you no longer wish death on this male so be it, we will lock him away to rot for the rest of his days,” Rhysand promises and I nod my head.
“I only have one request,” I tell him, glancing at the man still moaning and whimpering—whispering to himself about his eyes being gone and begging for mercy.
“What is it?” Rhysand asked.
“Take his cock,” I demand, there’s no question or judgement in those eyes. He nods but Azriel is the one to speak up.
Cassandra looked down and in his outstretched hand laid a black hilted dagger with a sharp and shiny blade.
She reached out, taking it gently from he’s beautifully scarred hand.
“I’ve never used one before,” she whispered, looking down at the knife in her hand.
“You won’t need to use it, but if you did Truth Teller wouldn’t let you miss,” Azriel spoke confidently. She looked up at him and nodded her head.
She didn’t know the weight of the dagger, its power or what it meant to Azriel. All that mattered in this moment is it made her feel safe and it gave him some peace of mind.
okay, so im so obsessed with your lucien fic! fey and rhy’s sister so so funny together and I love the relationship between her and lucien.
i was wondering if you planned to give the sister a name? also why did you choose the nicknames he calls her?
Oh, hi anon! Thank you so much for this question!
First, I’m glad yall are enjoying the relationship between Rhys’ sister and Feyre—I really wanted them to have a funny, fun, sister/besties relationship and I’m so glad yall are picking up on that!
I do not plan to give the sister a name. She’ll be addressed by pet names like Lucien does or a title like “Princess/Princess of Night Court/Velaris’ Princess” etc!
So, funny story about the nicknames I choose. Pretty girl and sweet girl are just typical for me when writing a more dominant character with a more submissive character (though dominant and submissive didn’t totally matter. I have a scene in the next chapter where she calls Lucien her sweet boy and in the first chapter she calls him her handsome mate).
However with, Princess, Lucien uses it both as a pet name and a title. In my mind he actively addresses her as Princess in their day to day lives as he would with any High Lord or a Lady. Our LuLu baby has good manners okay, his mama raised him well.
But as I’ve been writing (because I’m considering possibly doing a prequel, if the people want it, of how their relationship came about and how he finds out who she is), I’ve been thinking about when he first met her.
We know with his metal eye he can see through glamours and things like that. I haven’t went into much detail but she is heavily glamoured, possibly put on her when the wards were placed on Spring to keep her trapped inside, in turn glamouring so no one would know who she was and run back to tell Rhysand. I think Lucien immediately saw through her glamour and had most likely seen her in passing at some point in their lives with both having dads as high lords.
So he sees her and he’s like she looks familiar where do I know her from then like…what the fuck, aren’t you dead??? Obviously he doesn’t say that. But I do think he confronts her about it one day and Lucien being Lucien started calling her Princess sarcastically before it became something he called her respectfully and lovingly 🥹😂
Summary: Following the events of the Solstice ceremony.
Warnings/Tags: smut. implied past sexual assault. fluffy romance. feyre and Rhys’ sister being besties and wanting to destroy tamlin. possible grammatical errors.
Authors Note: All likes comments and reblogs are appreciated, welcome and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 3! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts. (Mood Board)
It’s hours later when the intensely bright sun had finally sunk back below the western horizon, giving me back my beautiful night sky.
There had been more countless hours of…well of not much really but it was still exhausting to be standing around all day surrounded by thousands of flowers and brightly colored streamers, watching Feyre and Tamlin greet and speak to everyone while Ianthe followed around trying to explain what happened.
The cauldron had blessed her chosen friend, she told anyone who would listen—how the sun had altered its very path to show how glad it was for her return. I would silently mock her every time she repeated those words.
There hadn’t been many interested in her tale, and the ones that were showed mild interest at best.
Feyre had stuck close to us for a majority of the time. I didn’t mind. I felt extremely protective over her. Not only as my High Lady but as my friend. I may not have access to my physical powers but I could still enter a mind in half a second and destroy someone if they dared harm her.
I’d enjoyed watching this new Feyre. How confident and sure she’d become. When the adoring fae wished to touch her hand, weep a bit over her, thank her for all she’d done she would have cringed away before. Now she openly accepted their thanks and gratitude. Thanking them and smiling as any High Lord would. Mostly genuine. Though for some, like courtiers and sentries, she put on a better show.
After six hours many retreat to freshen up.
“Tell my brother I love him.” I tell Feyre when she hugs me as she leaves. She promises to tell him for me.
Lucien and I stay, watching as lunch is cleared away and the band sets up. I would give anything to be spending this day with my family, but I was always grateful to have my mate at my side.
So when the band finally started playing and the fae around us took to the dance floor I dragged Lucien up. He hadn’t put up much of a fight—we loved dancing.
And dance we did for hours. I had even stolen Feyre away from Tamlin a few times much to his annoyance and my satisfaction.
We laughed together, spinning around the dance floor. It reminded me of myself and Mor—how we would get drunk on wine at Rita’s and dance the night away. I couldn’t wait to have nights like that with Feyre, too.
I spun her back into Tamlins arms as Lucien stole me away this time, practically begging me to come with him to eat and I realized why when I noticed Ianthe prowling around the tables.
Even she couldn’t put a damper on my mood right now. We fixed our plates and seated ourselves. More wine in our glasses as we sat tucked off away from the largest parts of the crowd—talking in hushed voices and feeding one another as if we hadn’t been mated for nearly two decades now.
Eventually I had shifted from my seat to stand behind Lucien, playing with his hair while we watched those on the dance floor become increasingly more drunk. I started braiding his hair, a taunt braid along either side of his head, curling behind his pointed ears.
“Your hair is getting so long,” I tell him, those auburn locks well past his shoulders now.
“I know,” He says, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking of cutting it—”
I gasp, drawing his attention up to me. “You better not!”
The laugh that leaves his mouth goes straight to my core. He reaches up and pulls me to bend over him so he can kiss me.
“Is that an order, Princess?” He asks against my lips and I grin.
“More like I’ll kick your ass if you do it,” I tease, kissing him again.
As I’m pulling away to go back to braiding his hair I feel eyes on us. Violet meeting teal and I bare my teeth in a wicked smile. I slide my fingers through his hair, gently pulling to tilt his head back, keeping eye contact with her as I lean down to kiss him again… stroking my tongue over his. He gasps in my mouth, reaching up to caress my head with a strong hand.
Anger lights in those eyes across the way and I grin as Lucien’s lips move to my throat, my free hand sliding around and down his chest—slipping under his shirt to feel heated skin.
I moan as he sucks on my skin, digging my nails into his chest and tightening my hand in his hair.
“Fuck,” Lucien growls, standing quickly from the chair, towering over me. “Come here.”
Then I’m being dragged away. I look over my shoulder smirking at Ianthe who is red in the face looking like she’s about to have a tantrum. She takes a step forward as if about to follow Lucien and I only to be stopped by Feyre, though I couldn’t hear what was being said before we disappeared into the thick woods.
“You’re nothing but trouble,” Lucien taunts, pushing me against a tree and attacking my mouth.
“You love it,” I gasp against his lips, reaching between us to work his pants open, ignoring the way the tree bark digs into my wings.
“Turn around,” he orders, but before I can move he’s got me spun around and pressed against the tree. “Hands.” Is his next order.
I present my wrists to him behind my back and his large hand wraps around them, pinning them to my lower back.
“I’m gonna fuck you right here, Princess,” Lucien says, the sound of his buckle coming undone making me shiver. “I want you to be loud enough that she hears you.”
I moan at that. Knowing exactly who he’s talking about without saying her name. Though it’s unlikely she’ll actually hear me from this distance over the music but the thought that she might? And probably had many times is something I love. She wants him so bad—not that I blame her. But to remind her he was mine over and over, that she would never get to have him made me feral.
I’m pulled from those thoughts when the skirt of my dress is being lifted, that hand of fire trailing between my thighs, rubbing at my wetness before ripping the stocking and panties I wore beneath.
“Tell me, sweet girl, are you turned on because of me? Or because you know she knows exactly what we’re doing out here?” Lucien asks, fingers sliding through my wetness, rubbing in that perfect spot until I was weak in the knees. Only held up by his weight pushing me against the tree.
“I asked a question,” He grunts, pulling that heat away from my center.
“Both,” I gasp out in a moan, needing his hand back. “Fuck, both.”
“That’s a good girl,” He praises, hand sliding back between my thighs, rubbing at me, two fingers sliding inside.
“Oh, fuck, Lu,” I moaned. His fingers weren’t as thick or long as his cock but they felt so good filling me up, curling perfectly to find that spot that had me seeing stars.
“I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” He leaned over me to breathe in my ear, careful of my wings, fingers pumping faster, “then on my cock. Then I’m gonna take you back to that party filled up. We’re going to tell everyone goodbye then I’m gonna take you home, tie you to the bed and have my godsdamn way with you.”
“Yes, please!” I cry out, clenching around his fingers, cumming entirely too easy just from the way he rubs that spot inside of me, just from the way his voice rasped against my ear.
His fingers slide from me but before I can protest I feel him press against me, pushing in, in, in until he’s fully sheathed inside of me. He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, the back of my shoulders between my wings. I wished he had ripped the damn dress from my body so I could feel his lips against my skin.
“That could be arranged,” He purrs, reaching around to grasp my breast, not realizing I had sent that through the bond.
“Lu, please,” I begged, pushing back against him. He hisses in pleasure, nipping at my neck before straightening his spine, still holding my wrist as he pulls his hips back, thrusting all the way back in. “Yesss.”
Then he fucks me. Hard and rough.
Bent over against a tree in the middle of the forest. I let every sound imaginable fall from my lips exactly the way he ordered me to. Between the events of the day, the flirting, the unwanted looks from another and the wine I was falling over the edge easily for the second time.
He slows his thrusts, giving me only a moment to catch my breath before he’s pulling out and spinning me back around. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground directly in front of him.
“Look at my pretty girl, so fucked out she can’t even stand,” Lucien coos, grasping my chin gently to tilt my head up, sliding his thumb into my mouth. I suck on the digit, batting my eyelashes at him, watching that fire burn in his eyes.
He reaches down, grabbing me around the waist and hauls me up, lifting me easily into his arms, my dress bunching between us. My arms and legs wrap around him and I kiss him. I can’t help it.
It only takes some slight maneuvering before he’s back inside of me, my calves over his forearms as he’s thrust into me. It was always such a turn on the way he could hold me like this, so easily, as he took me.
The bond suddenly lights up with warmth and my mind goes blank as I come again.
“Fill me up. Please, cum in me, I want it.”
I can feel how close he is without him saying anything. The sounds he’s making, the feelings through the bond. I know exactly when he’s about to cum and I moan as he fills me up
“So good, that was so good, Luc.”
He moans, eyes meeting mine and I smile at him. Pushing a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead.
He takes a few gasping breaths, holding me in his arms still, basking in the high of his orgasm. I wrap my wings around us as we stand there, providing us with some form of privacy should anyone stumble upon us.
“We should get back,” I tell him, kissing the tip of his pointed ear. Wanting nothing more than to just skip out on the goodbyes and just go back to the house.
“Just another minute,” he said breathy, one of his hands reaching to grasp my ass cheek. “Just wanna be inside of you.”
“Mm. We could just go say our goodbyes like this,” I offer, playing with the braid I put in his hair earlier. “Unfortunately that means quite a few males would see me with your cock—”
Lucien growls at that and I giggle when his eyes meet mine. “I would kill someone.”
I hum in response, kissing him.
“The thought of you killing someone simply for seeing my body shouldn’t be so sexy.”
His hearty laugh vibrates through my body—my favorite sound.
“Come on, Princess. Let’s get this over with so I can get you in my bed,” He says, slipping from my body and setting me getting on my feet, making sure I was steady before tucking himself away.
We take a few moments to collect ourselves, kissing softly between straightening the other clothes and fixing disheveled hair. Of course no one was stupid. They would scent the smell of sex on us but that didn’t mean we had to make it any more obvious.
By the time we got back the sun had been long gone from the sky, dozens of blazing fires lit the area now. I didn’t spot Ianthe anywhere but Feyre finds us within moments of us taking up a spot by the fire.
We had meant to say our goodbyes but Feyre offered me a glass of wine. Which led to another. And another. We danced with one another around the fire—Lucien taking turns spinning us around. I had no idea where Tamlin was and I honestly didn’t care.
It was when Feyre asked Lucien and I to escort her back to the manor. Being ever the gentleman he agreed. I was much more drunk than Feyre but Lucien offered an elbow to each of us, letting us hang on him as he led us back to the house.
We left Feyre at her bedroom, I giggled out a goodnight, grabbing her face and kissing her cheek. As we were turning away I tripped over my foot and giggled again.
“Luc, I’m drunk,” I said, as he grabbed my arm, wrapping it around his neck.
“Yeah, Princess, I know,” Lucien chuckled, leading me to our bedroom.
I felt so light and blissful, letting him undress me and clean me up. He pulled the pins from my hair and cleaned the makeup from my face sliding a nightgown onto my naked body.
He laid me back, pulling his comforter over my body, tucking me in tightly. “Get some sleep, sweet girl,” He smiles down at me, kissing my forehead.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
I woke up hours later to Lucien tossing and turning. Ever since the Mountain his sleep was more restless than not, dragging up traumas old and new.
My head pounded from all the wine I’d drunk but I watched his face, still peaceful despite the unease of his sleep. It was when a horrified grimace crossed his face that I took over. When I felt the bond run ice cold with fear, when I got a glimpse of that nightmare—one he’s had before, where it starts with Jesminda’s torture and right as she’s about to be executed she changes into me as Beron and Lucien’s brother’s force him to watch me be murdered.
I slip into his mind, caressing it gently, ending the dream easily before it gets to that horrid part. I crawl next to him, laying his head in my lap and carding my fingers through his hair, braiding and unbraiding pieces, scratching at his scalp gently.
Instead I show him Velaris, the life I want us to have there together, the life we always talked about.
Living in our home right on the river. Late night stroll under an endless diamond sky. A long and happy life with beautiful red headed, winged babies. All the adventures we could go on together when no longer stuck in the boundaries of the Spring Court. Having the bond declared in a ceremony, a proper wedding, going swimming in the Sidra, taking him to see Ramiel—there was so much I wanted to do with him.
We’ve had a good life together here in Spring. He had done everything to make it better for me once he realized who I was, that I was stuck here. Picnic dates by the pond, visits to farmers markets, naps under beautiful trees, drinking wine, horseback rides, festivals and gardening.
But we could have a better life. An amazing one instead of a good one and I wanted to spend it with him.
He shifts, arms wrapping around my legs, nuzzling against my thigh, pressing his lips to my tanned skin but he doesn’t wake. I lull him into a deeper sleep, thumbing away the crease between his eyebrows.
My head whips up at a sound across the hall, Feyres room. I listen carefully, hear her door open. Then there’s a gentle knock on our door. She must have had a nightmare too…maybe I should start checking in on her at night.
I gently untangle myself from Lucien’s embrace, pulling the bed sheet over his body before sliding from the bed. There’s a second knock just before I reach the door. I scanned her head to toe quick—sweaty and disheveled but not physically harmed.
“I heard you, are you okay?” I asked, stepping to the side to let her into the room, scanning the hall for any sign of trouble. There seemed to be nothing.
The room was lit mainly by the moon light and I watched her look around the room. The night gown she wore was above mid thigh but she turned around to look at me before I could question her motive.
“I had a dream about it,” she rasped thickly, “Under the Mountain. I couldn’t remember where I was.”
I nod my head in understanding. Lucien had similar dreams. I wanted to kill Amarantha all over again for what she had done. To Feyre. To Lucien. To my brother. To thousands and thousands of fae.
“What did you dream of tonight?” I asked, stepping closer to her.
“She had me spiked to the wall like Clare Beddor. And the Attor was—” She shuddered, running her hands over her face.
I walked closer to her, a frown on my face, wanting to provide her with some kind of comfort. There’s something in the house, a vibration, I feel it but before I can question it she’s thrown her arms around me. I don’t object as she buries her face against my neck, warm tears falling on my bare skin. I let out a small sigh, sliding an arm around her waist, the other caressing her head, stroking over her dark golden hair.
“I’m sorry, Feyre,” I breathed, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
Her cries and tears eventually subside but I continued to hold her. Allowing her to take the comfort she needed from me. I pulled back slightly, caressed her face gently, wiping away the remaining tears. I looked at her, I knew she could see the concern in my eyes, but there was something else in hers, something not completely of the fear and sadness she was presenting.
“Why are you—”
“What’s going on?” Tamlin’s deep voice rumbles through the room. I turned my head slightly to look at him, he stood there face a mask of cold calm, the beginnings of claws glinting at his knuckles—looking as if he’d caught us in the middle of something naughty.
“I had a nightmare,” she explained, pulling, straightening her nightgown. I fought the urge to smile. “I-I didn’t want to wake the house.”
Tamlin knew I didn’t sleep in here most nights. Lucien either slept in my room or we slept separately, so in his eyes Feyre had to have been seeking out the comfort of Lucien after her nightmare.
He just stood there staring at us. Eyes glancing at Lucien before looking at me with narrowed eyes, a glare that I returned. His mouth tightened into a thin line and I nearly snarled at him—those claws still half drawn.
“I had a nightmare,” Feyre repeated sharply, walking forward to grip Tamlin’s arm, turning him but he looked back at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked at him as she led him from the room closing the door.
“You little shit, your lucky Lucien wasn’t awake, Tamlin would’ve killed him,” I told her crawling back in bed with my mate.
“I wouldn’t let that happen. I needed to plant some kind of doubt in his mind. You seemed to do the trick though,” Feyre’s answer came five minutes later, laughter in her voice.
“You should have told me I would have kissed you right in front of him,” I teased back, sliding under the sheet, cuddling up to that warm body.
“Next time,” Is her response, a mental image of her winking and blowing me a kiss followed.
I laughed out loud.
“What’s going on?” Lucien asks, a slight frown on his face at being woken suddenly.
I grinned, kissing his chest.
“Nothing, my love. Go back to sleep,” I whispered, easily slipping into his mind to lull him back to sleep.
I grinned to myself.
“Burn it down, Feyre” I told her. “Burn it all down.”
NSFW Sneak Peek for part 2 of Princess of Dreams 🥵😏
Lucien x Rhys!Sister
My knees buckle and I fall to the ground directly in front of him.
“Look at my pretty girl, so fucked out she can’t even stand,” Lucien coos, grasping my chin gently to tilt my head up, sliding his thumb along my bottom lip. I suck the digit into my mouth, batting my eyelashes at him, watching the fire burn in his.
Hello friend! I have a quick question that I’d like some input on 🧐
Here it is: Do you think the fae can be ticklish? I can’t decide. On one hand, I LOVE the idea of the strongest fucking fae in existence crumbling when tickled. At the same time, I like the idea of only made people being ticklish, so Feyre, Elain, and Nesta. (Amren too but 💀) And their mates discovering it and being like ? What is this cuteness? So what are your thoughts? Thanks for entertaining my weirdness friend! :3
Oh, anon thank you for sending me this question!
Okay…so if I’m being quite honest, I don’t think I’ve ever considered this😂
You see my initial thought was, “well, yeah, why wouldn’t they be?” But I had never given it much thought before so let me give you my run down of why I think that even the toughest of toughest warrior fae can/could be ticklish.
First, the fae are a relatively happy/lively folk. They gather for holidays. They get drunk and dance in bars. They find pleasure in the little things. I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t be ticklish. (Though just like humans I’m sure there are some fae that just simply aren’t ticklish)
Second, I think that the idea of only made fae being ticklish wouldn’t be far fetched—depending on what they were made from. Nesta, Feyre and Elain were humans before they were made. We, of course, know that humans are ticklish so it would make sense that they could and most likely are ticklish. Amren on the other hand, I’m not sure if her species would have had the concept of being ticklish.
Third, I considered that…if for some reason in all the time fae have been on their planet haven’t discovered being tickled maybe…just maybe the cauldron made introduced them to it.
Lmfao. Just imagine some big, scary, warrior giggling for the first time cause his lover tickled him it’s a quite funny.
In all seriousness though, I do believe the fae are ticklish.
I believe their mothers tickle their babies to make them laugh. Children tickle each other. Siblings do it to annoy one another. Lovers do it, too.
I can’t even imagine our fae babies not ever experiencing being tickled—
I think Rhys feet are ticklish.
Azriel and Cassian probably have a spot somewhere around their ribs.
I think Feyre and Nesta would get the neck tickles when Rhys or Cassian nuzzle up against them.
Weirdly enough I feel like Elain would have an under the arm tickle spot.
I could probably keep going lol but I’ll leave it here 😂
hihi. first of all, your tumblr is gorgeous! second of all I love your writing and the silent one fic just captivated me sooo much. could I be added to the taglist plz? hope you have a great day!!
Thank you uso much, my love! I’ve been working on it for a while, and still have some work to do but im glad it eye catching! 🩷
You definitely made my night with this ask, you can 100% be added to the tags list for The Silent One! Thank you for reading, I look forward to any feedback you have in the future!😊
If you receive this, you make somebody happy! Go on anon and send this to 10 of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. If you get one back, even better 💖💖💖
AH!!!! I can’t describe how beautiful your fics are!!!! I look forward to the continuation of the silent one and the shadows dance!!!! They are soooo good, they really be given me the feels!!!!
Ah!!! Thank you so much!!!🩷🩷
The love I’ve been receiving on my fics lately has been so amazing and such a huge motivation to keep writing! Shadows Dance wasn’t getting too much traction at first and I was a little worried people weren’t enjoying it—hence why it hadn’t been updated as recent as The Silent One.
So thank you for letting me know you’re enjoying it cause that makes me want to continue it haha
Summary: Centuries ago Rhys’ youngest sister was kidnapped by the High Lord of Spring instead of kill like their mother and sister. The high lord had wards placed on his court so she was unable to leave. Rhys has believed her to be dead this whole time. What happens when Feyre finds out who she is and swears to take her home.
Warnings/Tag: Takes place during ACOWAR. Implied past sexual assault. Fluffy romance. Feyre being besties with Rhy’s sister. Pet names (pretty girl, sweet girl, Princess (her title)
Authors Note: All likes, comments and reblogs are welcome, appreciated and encouraged. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 2! Bold italics are mental communication regular italics are inner thoughts.
You’re Rhys' sister. He told me all about you while I was there. I…I have a plan. I’ll take you back with me when I go. I’ll take you home.
The hushed conversation with Feyre played on repeat in my head for days. She had trusted me enough to tell me she wasn’t really here for Tamlin, that it was a plot, a plan and she was going back to the Night Court. Back to Velaris and she was taking me with her—she was taking me home.
Home.
There was only one problem. Just one. The male lying in my bed. I turn away from the window to gaze at him lying there naked, golden skin glowing in the moonlight. A crown of red splayed around his head. Grooves and planes of lean muscles on display. Arms folded behind his head.
Gods, he’s beautiful.
I had yet to tell him of Feyre’s plan. I believed he wouldn’t tell Tamlin but at the same time…I wasn’t sure how safe his mind was with two other daemanti in the house. I could only protect his mind when I was with him. Plus, Tamlin was his best friend. His High Lord. If he knew of Feyre’s plan to leave…and everything else she told me and Tamlin found out, we could both be locked away again. Not only that, but if he found out Lucien knew? That couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let harm come to either of them.
I took in a deep breath, walking over to the bed, tucking my wings as I slowly crawled up that perfect body. Dipping my head and trailing my lips over that patch of hair that went down, down, down, breathing in the scent of him. Mm.
“And what exactly are you doing?” That deep voice rumbled. I looked up, a sly grin across his face, metal eye glowing in the dark as he took in the sight of me between high thighs as I licked my bottom lip.
“Who? Me?” I asked, sliding a hand up his thigh to grasp him in my hand, stroking him once.
“Yes you, Princess” He laughs, grabbing and pulling me up the bed, kissing me as he rolls us over. I can feel him hard and heavy between my legs and it makes me moan.
“Lucien,” His name falls from my lips as he presses our bodies together. “Don’t tease, I want you.”
“Don’t tease?” He scoffs, “Says the one who was about to wake me up with a pretty little mouth.”
His grin is feral and I can’t help but return it.
“Come on,” I spread my legs wider, letting him feel the wetness there, “I know you want it.”
“And she calls me the tease,” He mocks under his breath before kissing me, tongue sliding into my mouth.
My fingers tangle in those long fire locks. I moan when I feel the heat radiating from his body, I love when he does that. The heat always feels so good against my sensitive skin.
He grins at me again, pushing up onto his knees, towering over me. He grabs my thighs, spreading them out and looking over me and I let him. I always loved the way he looks at me, his beautiful scarred face showing every ounce of emotion he feels.
He reaches between his thigh, wrapping a strong fist around himself and I watch stroke for stroke as he watches me. I tug on that bond between us, watching as it seemingly tugs him closer though I know it was his own doing.
“So, beautiful, all laid out for me,” He groans and I open myself further for him. Stretching my wings out across the bed, arms above my head, legs still spread wide but using a foot to rub over his calf.
That does it for him. He swoops down, grabbing me around the waist to yank my hips up, lining himself up and filling me. I cry out his name, arching into that fullness, into that glorious stretch.
We move together heat and passion. It’s rough and loving and he’s got me falling over the edge in minutes. Then again. And again. He’d always been so good at getting me there. Doing everything to make sure I was pleasured properly.
Tonight was no different as he leans over me, slow, firm thrusts hitting exactly where I needed it as he mouthed at my wing, tongue tracing through the grooves, and one hand wrapped around my wrists above my head to hold me in place.
“Say my name, pretty girl” he says, heated kisses on my wing.
“Lucien,”
“Louder,” he growls.
“Lucien!”
“I want the whole house to hear you, sweet girl.” His tongue laves over a particularly sensitive spot and I’m gone again. Gushing over him and moaning his name loud enough that the whole house definitely heard it.
It’s not long after that his thrusts are slowing. He lets go of my hands so I can touch him, he always liked having my touch when he came. I grinned into our kiss as my hands ran over his body. His panting moans turning into grunted growls. He was so sexy like this. Covering me fully, hair falling around his face, teeth bared.
I reached up pushing his hair behind those pointed ears, thumb tracing over part of his scar before pulling him into a kiss that was more tongue than anything.
“Fuck, just like that, baby,” I moaned into his mouth. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Make me feel so good!”
“Yeah? Gonna cum in that pussy for you, pretty girl, then I'm gonna eat it out.”
That’s what did it for me, I tightened around him. He follows me over the edge a few thrust later with a growl of my name.
Then he’s slipping from my body and sliding down, kissing a trail to my centre, keeping true to his promise.
“Fuck,” He groaned, coming back up, sliding his tongue into my mouth to let me taste myself. Kissing me slow and sloppy. “So perfect. My pretty, perfect mate.”
Despite what we’d just done I blush at his words.
“My sweet handsome mate,” I whisper back, tumbing at the bottom of his scar again before wrapping my arms around his neck.
He holds me tight, arms wrapping around me as we catch our breath. I tuck my face into the crook of his neck breathing in his scent—organic, earthy and sweet. Perfect.
My eyes welled up when thoughts of leaving weave through my brain. This was my mate, I had built a life here with him. But I had been trapped in this house for so long that it wasn’t really life. I wanted to go home to Velaris. To my brother and our family. I could try to convince Lucien to go but that could put him in danger. I had almost lost him under the mountain, I could t go through that again. If I left first I could always seek him out later but to stay here when I had the opportunity to finally go home, when I had Feyre telling me she could break the wards binding me here. I couldn’t turn that down.
“My love, what’s wrong?” Lucien asks, pulling back to look at me. Our eyes meet as he wipes away my tears. “Talk to me.”
I sniffled. I felt like it was now or never. I either told him now or he would find out when I leave. I couldn’t do that to him though. It would break his heart to wake up one day and find me gone.
“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” He said, petting my hair.
“I don’t know if I can say it out loud,” I tell him, our eyes meeting.
“That’s okay, Princess” Lucien nods his head, concern written all over his face.
“You can’t tell Tamlin,” The crease between his brow deepens. “You can’t tell him, Lucien, please. Promise me.”
He watches me for a moment, confused and concerned but he nods. “I promise. I won’t tell him.”
“Feyre and Rhys’ bond wasn’t actually broken that day with Hybern. She’s has a plan to go back. She…she said she can break the wards that hold me here so I can— I can finally go home,” I tell him, his eyes widen but he doesn’t look entirely shocked at what I’ve told him.
“And I’m assuming you have the intention of going with her?” He asks, sadness tinged the words and the bond.
“I have to, Lucien. I haven’t seen Rhys in centuries. Centuries. And he thought I was dead the entire time until recently. I need to go home, I need to see him and the rest of our family,” I cried, hot tears sliding down my face. He grabs me, pulling me up and holding me. Stroking my hair and shushing me softly.
“You should go, Princess. You should go home,” He says, kissing my head. I pull back to look at him, searching his face.
“Come with me,” I whisper, grabbing his face. “You can come. You would love Velaris—”
“I can’t,” he cuts me of gently, stroking his knuckles down my cheek. “Not that I don’t want to. Fuck, it hurts just thinking about you being away from me but if the three of us disappear? Tamlin will flip shit.”
“And he won’t be able to get to us in Velaris,” I tell him, grabbing the hand caressing my cheek and holding it tightly. “We would be safe there, Lucien. We could have a life together, a real one. Our own place by the river I showed you. A proper mating ceremony. We’ve been talking about kids for a decade. We could happily and safely have them there.”
“I don’t know…” Lucien shakes his head and I can see the water lining his eye.
“Me and you, Lu. That’s what we always said. Me and you—”
“Always.” Lucien nodded, looking over my face. Taking in every detail like he was trying to remember what I looked like before I was even gone. “What if you go with Feyre and I come later? You have to go now, you’re right you can’t pass up this opportunity to go home. I understand that. But you can come back for me, right? I could help keep Tamlin away…for some time anyway.”
My tears break loose then as I sob against his neck.
“I know it’s the best option but I don’t want to leave you,” I cried, clinging to him as he pulled me into his lap, letting my wings cocoon around us.
“Sh, it’s gonna be okay, my love.” I feel his tears on my neck and my heart breaks.
It was right but it felt so wrong.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
“So you’re joining us after all?” comes Tamlins snarky comment as soon as I walk out of the manor. I roll my eyes, fluffing the ugly powder blue dress.
“Unfortunately,” I rolled my eyes at him, it was too early for his shit, but still smiled at Lucien when his arm wrapped around my waist, careful of my wings.
“You can stay here,” Tamlin retorted with an eye roll of his own. “That would be preferable.”
“Well my mate asked me to attend. As did my friend, even if you wish Feyre wasn’t my friend,” I sneered at him with a wicked grin.
“I would never say that,” Tamlin returned the sneer, baring his teeth at me.
“Play nice, Princess,” Lucien purrs through the bond.
“Not out loud anyway,” I gave a sweet smile. “You look beautiful,” I said, hugging Feyre and kissing her cheek before pulling Lucien away to our horses.
Lucien helped me onto my horse, a gorgeous black mare, her coat shining even in the darkness of morning—a gift from Lucien after I accepted the mating bond. I looked down at him with a smile, running my hand through his hair.
“You’re lucky I love you, I really don’t want to deal with Ianthe’s shit today,” I said, situating myself in the saddle.
“Ianthe’s shit is exactly why I asked you to come,” Lucien said, grabbing my hand and kissing the back of it. “I appreciate you coming anyway, your presence will make it much more tolerable for me.”
“Yeah, I know, come on, let's get this over with,” I said, urging him to his own horse. “I’m ready to get today over with so I can get drunk and dance with you under the stars.”
Ugh, he looks so good. I thought as his head dropped back with a laugh before mounting his horse, dressed in autumn colors he stood out perfectly from everyone else wearing the hideously bright spring court colors. I’d be covered head to toe in Night Court black if it was allowed. I’d have loved to see the look on Ianthe’s face if I had shown up today in all black.
We set off soon after everyone had mounted their horses and there were already hundreds of fae crowded atop the hill when we arrived. I fought the urge to bare my teeth when I saw Ianthe’s gaze lingering on my mate as he dismounted his horse and strided to mine.
“Ignore it. She’s not worth your jealousy,” Lucien said as he reached for my hand, helping me from the saddle.
“I’m not jealous. I’m protective. I don’t like the way she looks at you,” I say, running my hands over the collar of his jacket. “Like she’ll drag you away to have her way with you whether you like it or not.”
“That’ll never happen, my love.”
“Damn right it won’t, I’d break her hands if she ever touches you,” I huff, as a feline smile crosses his lips.
“You’re sexy when you’re possessive,” He said, leaning down to kiss me, first my lips then my forehead before extending his arm to me to hold onto.
“You better make this up to me later,” I grumble, as I would much rather be back at the estate hiding in my room.
“Oh, I will make it up to you, sweet girl,” Lucien promised, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “slowly, with my tongue. Over and over.”
My body flushed knowing exactly how good he is with that wicked tongue. His gaze turns heated knowing exactly what I was thinking, feeling exactly what I was feeling.
“Lucien,” Tamlin calls from where he and Feyre are standing. I glance at those full lips one last time before he’s gently pulling me, guiding me away from our partially secluded spot. .
Jurian is at my other side suddenly walking with us as we trail behind Tamlin and Feyre—also linked by the arms and the Hybern Royals. I had seen the gleam in Feyre’s eye before she turned away, like a wolf getting ready to play with its prey. It made me giddy inside.
I couldn’t wait to witness her revenge.
We stopped walking when Tamlin and Feyre did, reaching Ianthe at her stupid altar as she offered them a singular nod of head. The Hybern twins shifted impatiently, Brannagh had made comments the night before how they didn’t bother with such things in Hybern—practically implying that soon we wouldn’t be bothering with it either. Smug little bitch.
“A blessed solstice to us all,” Ianthe called out to everyone around and I don’t roll my eyes the way I want to.
I stood there through an endless string of prayers and rituals, acolytes pouring sacred wine and the blessing of harvest goods. A lovely, rehearsed little number. Lucien was practically falling asleep between Feyre and I.
Ianthe lifted her wine and intoned “As the light is strongest today, let it drive out unwanted darkness. Let it banish the black stain of evil.” I sneered at her, I knew those words were directed at me. My brother. Feyre. Our home.
“She’s lucky my wine doesn’t end up in her pretty face,” I silently told Feyre, watching her expertly hide her grin with the wine chalice—her silent agreement.
“Would Princess Brannagh and Prince Dagdan do us the honor of imbibing this blessed wine?”
I shared a look with Feyre as the twins frowned at one another—the crowd murmuring behind us. But Feyre stepped aside, smiling a pretty smile and gesturing to the alter for the royals.
“Drink and let our new allies become friends,” Ianthe declared before they could refuse. “Drink and wash away the endless night of the year.”
The two daemanti surveyed their cups, most likely searching for any hint of poison. Feyre kept that smile on her face, I couldn’t extend that same faux courtesy when the prince looked my way. I didn’t care enough to put on the facade.
They each barely sipped the wine before trying to step away from the altar. Ianthe cooed at them like children, insisting they stay at the altar with her, to experience the ceremony at her side.
“I’m bored, Luc,” I grumbled to Lucien through the bond as Ianthe continued on with her praises and rituals. Eyes finding Lucien every now and then, looking away when I send her a death glare—lucky she doesn’t know who I really am.
“I’ll be over soon,” Lucien chuckles, pulling me into his side with an arm around my waist.
Finally, Tamlin was summoned over to light the candle for the souls lost this past year. This part bored me too. Those souls were gone; they didn’t need a candle lit to bring them back to the light. But just as I was starting to lose my patients the sky was finally filling with streaks of pink as Jurian was called forward to recite a prayer as well.
It left only Lucien and I standing with Feyre in the circle of grass, the altar and horizon in front of us and the crowd behind us. The look on Lucien’s face drew my attention as he scanned the area and I could help the crack of a smile when I noticed something out of place. A miniscule little detail no one else seemed to notice—except maybe now my mate.
I watched as Ianthe stepped toward the hill’s edge, her golden hair tumbling freely down her back as she lifted her arms to the sky. The chosen spot was intentional. Only that marker that told her where to stand wasn’t in the spot it had been in when we first arrived.
Golden rays of sunlight finally broke over the horizon. Light filled the world clear and strong. The murmurs started through the crowd. Cries of a name, not Ianthe’s but Feyre’s.
That gorgeous light had not filled and surrounded Ianthe but Feyre.
Ianthe seemed to be the last to notice, to see the sun was not blessing her but Feyre.
She glowed so brightly, brighter than what seemed natural for this occasion but I didn’t care to question why. She was beautiful—shining as if she were the star that hung above Ramiel.
“Curse breaker,” some murmured.
“Blessed,” others whispered.
Feyre's face was one of surprise and acceptance, though I knew it wasn’t genuine, those around us wouldn’t read it that way. They would only see what she allowed them too. The shock and bafflement of Tamlin and the Hybern twin’s faces was ever satisfying.
But Feyre didn’t look at them. She turned to Lucien and I, her light radiating so bright it was almost hard to keep that eye contact. A friend looking to another for help. She reached a hand to Lucien then to me.
I knew Ianthe had to be losing her shit behind us but I was too enchanted by my brother's mate. Yes, this was all a show, but Feyre was special.
I took her hand, watching Lucien do the same. Then we shared a look, lowering down to one knee, pressing her knuckles to our brow. I knew the crowd behind us had followed suit.
I had never kneeled for a high lord of the Spring Court. I was Princess of the Night Court. Heir of Velaris. Princess of Dreams. I knelt for no one—certainly not for anyone of the Spring Court. Not now, not ever.
I was not kneeling before Lady Feyre. Or Feyre Cursebreaker. I was kneeling for Feyre High Lady of the Night Court. Feyre that led Prythian from tyranny and darkness. Feyre that saved my mate and thousands of others under the mountain.
“My high lady,” I declared to her. The only person besides my brother I’d ever sworn fealty to.
I looked up at Feyre, our eyes meeting before she looked to Ianthe, smiling a sweet smile, one that transformed to show a bit of that wolf hiding beneath.
Summary: Azriel finds the guy that sold Cassandra. Lots of bonding happens with Cassandra, Azriel and other members of the IC. Slight cliffhanger.
Warnings/Tags: mentions/implied rape. Mention past sexual abuse. Mentions pregnancy from rape. Slow burn. Violence. Brief victim blaming. Found family. Protective!azriel. Protective!IC. GRAMMER ERRORS—I plan on going back to edit this please don’t judge me too hard I’m gonna have a busy week and just really wanted to get this posted for y’all🩵
Authors Note: all reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter. Regular italics are inner thoughts and bold italics are mental communication.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
Azriel stands in the darkness of night watching. Waiting. Body thrumming with anger. Calm cold anger. The kind that got people killed if they didn’t give him what he was looking for.
Only moments after Cassandra’s departure had his shadow returned to him. Telling him where to find this Vale. This horrid male who was taking females away from their family and selling them off—profiting off of them like livestock.
He sees the male, recognizes him from the briefs flash of memory Cassandra let slip at dinner, the one where this mad had choked her, slammed her against the wall just for needing to use the restroom.
The male is loading something up in the back of a wagon, the building behind him dark and dingy. Azriel let his shadows take him closer. Closer. Until he was standing in the alley between this man's house and another. The smell was horrid, small creatures scurrying about looking for their meal for the evening.
The male retreats into the building and Azriel lets a shadow loose to follow him—to be his eyes inside of this building. Inside is just as dark and dingy and piled high to the roof with…stuff. The blue skinned male navigates the maze of boxes and bins and trash with ease. He seems to be the only one here but Azriel knew better so he waits following the man through the seemingly endless maze.
That’s when he hears it, his shoulders going tight, his jaw clenching. Crying—no sobbing. A girl begging to be left alone as the male grabs her and pins her down to the floor.
“Fuck,” he growls. He pounds his fist against the outside of the building, taking chucks of the stone out. It’s loud enough to distract the man, to get him away from that girl as he rushed from the room under the floor, locking the locks and coming out. Looking around wildly for the source of the sound.
Azriel winnows, leaning against the wagon the man had been loading before, whistling to get the man attention. He whirls around, black eyes narrowed in anger, freezing in place when they land on him.
“Shadowsinger?” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at Azriel. “What brings you to these parts?”
Azriel looks him over, the smell of shit, piss and rot was overwhelming even from this distance.
“Vale,” Azriel says, to let the male know he knows who he is, rightfully see the fear in his eyes. “I’m looking for something and I hear you’re the one to help me.”
“I ain’t got nothing you need, pretty boy,” Vale sneers, crossing his arms, looking Azriel over. Trying to come off as tough but it’s actually laugh-able.
“Are you sure?” Azriel asks, pushing off the wagon. Letting his wings spread wide, walking closer, towering over the male. “See, I’ve got this female telling me you bought her from her dad and sold her to a pleasure house. I mean, tell me I’m wrong, man. I’ve just gotta check on these things. It’s a pretty serious accusation and all.”
“That chick’s got the wrong guy. I would never do something like that. These bitches are always trying to get us males in trouble,” Vale said, seeming to relax. Big mistake.
“You think so? Just tell me if you know her man. About this tall, really pretty, tan skin, white hair. Wings.” Azriel growls the last word, the man’s eyes widening again, taking a step back.
“Look, man, it’s not like that. Her dad owed me money, so he gave me her instead cause he couldn’t afford to pay me back, okay? So I didn’t technically buy her,” He stammered out, trying to explain himself.
“Oh,” Azriel said, nodding his head. “Well, I mean, if you didn’t technically buy her then no law was broken.”
“That’s right!” The male nods, sighing in relief. “No law was broken, man. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t do that—”
“Yeah. I get it,” Azriel nods, shifting. Looking towards the building, then back to the low life in front of him. “And that female inside? Did you buy her? Is she here of her own free will allowing you to rape her daily?”
“Fuck,” Vale whispers, turning and running down the cobble stone road. Azriel stands there watching, a grin stretching his lips as he lets the male think he’s getting away.
“Send Morrigan,” He calls out to Rhys as he watches the male.
“She’s coming.”
Then he's gone again, just as Vale looks over his shoulder to try and spot him, only to smack hard into a body that came out of nowhere. He looks at the shadowsinger towering over him, swallowing thickly.
“What do you want from me?” The male nearly cried out as Azriel grabbed him and pulled him up, slamming his face first into a stone wall. The resounding crunch of his nose breaking is ever satisfying.
“Her name is Cassandra,” Azriel snarls into the man's ear. “She told us what you did to her. What you did to that female you have locked in that disgusting building. We know there’s more girls. We will find them all and when we do, I’ll let each one take a turn with you. Their weapon of choice. And you’ll feel exactly what they felt.”
“Ple-please. Please, just kill me,” The man begged, fighting in Azriel’s grasp but he was no match for Azriel’s strength.
“And what kind of justice would that be? Did you stop when those girls begged you to? Did you give them death with they would have preferred that over you using their bodies?” Azriel asked, scenting the smell of urine as the man pissed himself. “You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you.”
Before the pathetic excuse of a male could beg or plead any more Azriel grabbed the back of his head, smashing it into the wall, letting him fall unconscious to the ground. He left him there binded and hidden by shadows, stalking back to the building where he spotted Morrigan easily.
“Don’t tell me this is where he’s been keeping those poor girl?” She asked when she spotted him approaching.
“Unfortunately, I think it is. She said under his house but he could live here. I’ll question him more. I know there’s at least one female inside,” Azriel explained, guiding Morrigan into the building. Be could get the female on his own but he knew it was safer to have a female companion—after all they’d been through the least he could do was make sure a female was the one to comfort them.
They get to that basement floor, unlocking the various locks and pulling the hatch open. It’s as dark and dingy down here as it was in the rest of the building. Morrigan enters first, taking Azriel’s hand to steady herself on the old wobbly stairs.
“Your wings won’t fit down here,” She said, hushed. He nods at her. “Send a shadow if I call for help.” It’s said jokingly but he knows she’s serious. He’d rip the floor from this building to help her if she needed it.
Mor squinted her eyes in the dimness of the sellar, resisting the urge to plug her nose from the horrid smell.
“Hello? Is anyone down here?” She calls out, looking up from at Azriel when there’s no reply. “Hello, my name is Morrigan. I work for the High Lord. The male keeping you here is—”
Morrigan’s cut off when I body slams into hers, knocking her to the ground. She cries out in surprise when a sharp sting slices across her cheek.
“Stop, hey, stop! I’m here to help!” Mor calls out, trying to catch the hands of the female fae on top of her.
“Mor!” Azriel’s deep voice calls.
“I’ve got it!” Mor calls back, grabbing the girls wrists. “Please, stop! Vale is gone! He can’t hurt you, please, stop!”
The girl stops fighting then still tense where she’s straddling Morrigan’s middle section.
“He’s gone?” She whispers and Mor nods.
“Yes, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more. I swear,” She promises. Eyes finally able to take in the sight before her.
A fragile, naked, malnourished body sits atop her. Eyes not only shut but scarred as if they’d been cut—maybe by the same person that took Cassandra’s tongue. But what really got Morrigan, what had her ready to lose the contents of her stomach was the rounded belly attached to that nearly skeleton body. Her eyes welled and she helped the female to shift off of her body.
“Are you pregnant?” Mor whispers, trying to keep her voice from breaking as the female nods.
“Please, don’t let him take this one too,” She cries, reaching out to find Morrigan’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me I get to keep my baby.”
“I promise, no one is going to take your baby away from you,” Morgan swears, a single tear falling down her cheek. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”
“Neema, my name is Neema,” She answers and Mors eyes widen. The girl Cassandra told them about.
“You and your baby are safe, Neema. We’re gonna take you away from here, okay?” Morrigan says, standing and helping the pregnant female stand as well.
“I have my friend Azriel here too, he will not touch you, he’s only here to make sure no further harm comes to you. He’s handing me a cloak for you to wear,” Morrigan explains so the female doesn’t feel uncomfortable. She nods, allowing Mor to wrap the cloak around her.
“Are there any other females here?” Azriel asks gently, wishing he hadn’t with the way she clenched at the deep mess of it.
“Not—not that I know of. The females come and go. There’s been no others for months…” Neema answers, grasping the fabric tighter around her body.
Azriel and Mor share a look the last females had to have been Cassandra and the other two she mentioned.
“I’ll stay and check the building before I head back,” Azriel informed, consciously softening his voice so as not to scare the female again.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
Morrigan winnows away with Neema and Azriel searches every inch of the building with his shadows. No signs of any other females. He leaves the building, needing to relieve himself of the horrible stench.
He retrieves the still bound and unconscious male, winnowing him to his dungeon. He strips him, places a gag in his mouth, dumps him into a chair and binds him to it. He would be dealt with later.
The sun would be rising soon and he wanted to be there when they informed Cassandra they found the male and the female—her friend?
He enters Rhys' study, Cassian and Mor there too.
“How is she?” He asks, glancing at Morrigan then his brother.
“Resting,” Rhys answers. “Madja looked her over. Thankfully the baby seems healthy, Madja’s main concern is getting Neema to gain some weight and begin healing herself.”
“We offered her to live amongst the priestesses in the library, she agreed,” Morrigan said, her brown eyes bloodshot and cheeks flushed.
“Good, that’s all good, they’ll help her heal,” Azriel nods his head crossing his arms. “I have the male in my dungeon.”
“Have you gotten any information out of him?” Rhys asks, standing from his desk.
“Not much. He admitted to knowing who Cassandra was, receiving her from her father and holding her. He never admitted to selling her but that information won’t be hard to get out of him,” Azriel explains and Rhys nods in agreement.
“You get whatever information you can out of him and then he’s dead,” Rhys orders, Azriel doesn’t need to confirm he already knew what Rhys decision would be.
“Are we telling Cassandra?” Cassian asks, the first words he’s said the whole time.
“We are. She needs to know he’s here, it may bring her some comfort knowing he’s locked away and Neema is safe. I think you should be the one to talk to her, Azriel,” Rhy says, turning his attention to the shadow singer.
“Me? Not Mor?” Azriel asked, a bit confused.
“Yes, you. She’s comfortable with you. You’re the one that apprehended him. I believe she would prefer to hear it from you,” Rhys nods.
“Okay, I can do that,” Azriel agreed.
“You handle that, I’ve got some business to attend to with the priestesses. We’ll all meet up in a few hours to discuss further action.” Rhys stepped around his desk, patting Azriel’s shoulder when he passed by him.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
An hour goes by before Azriel tracks Cassandra down. Finding her in the library, flipping through a book where she’s sat in the large window seat that overlooked the city below. A steaming cup of tea next to her.
“I thought you couldn’t read?” Azriel asks, leaning against the door frame, grinning when those green eyes meet his.
“I can’t. I’m looking at the pictures,” She said, holding up the book, some romance book from the looks of the two people in a colorful garden.
“Ah,” Azriel says, walking further into the room. Trying not to focus on the way her eyes track up and down his body the closer he gets. He holds his hand out for the book, flipping it over the read the title, snorting at it. “Secret Garden Romance, huh?”
She shrugs, taking the book back.
“I asked the house for a book with a lot of pictures, this is what I got,” She said, a small sweet breathy laugh escaped her lips and he couldn’t help his own smile.
“Did you end up getting some sleep?” He asks, watching her set the book down and grab the warm mug.
“I slept but not great,” She shrugs. “I can’t stop thinking about my sisters.”
“We’re gonna do everything we can to find them, I promise you that,” Azriel said, not even waiting for a beat. He would find her sisters and he’d beat the shit out of her father too.
“You know I took my older sister's place. It was supposed to be her he sold off but the way she had cried when he told her. I couldn’t let him do that to her so I told him to take me…I didn’t really know what he meant when he was selling me. I thought I’d be a servant like the ones we had when I was a kid or something. I never thought…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath.
“You’re not to blame for what happened to you. You were protecting your sister. You did a very selfless thing. You're safe now and your sisters will be, too,” Azriel said, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards her.
“Well, what about you?” Cassandra asked, gently changing the subject. “Did you ever get any sleep?”
Azriel sighed with a head shake. “No, actually. That’s kind of why I came to talk to you.”
Cassandra fixed him with a curious look, leaning forward as if to give him her full attention for whatever he needed to say. He looked into those glowing green eyes, filled with curious concern.
“We found that male. Vale. We found him,” Azriel said, watching the vast range of emotions flash through those emerald eyes.
“He’s here?” Is what she asks, fear tinging her voice. Azriel straightens his back.
“He will not touch you,” he declared, holding her gaze. “He won’t even come near you.”
I’ll fucking kill him if he does. He thinks but doesn’t add it out loud.
“He can’t get out of…wherever he is?” She asks, and he wants to reach out so badly to comfort her. The ache in his chest drawing him to her.
“No. He’s being held in a very secure place. I promise you’re safe here. You’re safe with us.” Azriel promises. You’re safe with me.
“Were there any females with him?” She asks and Azriel nods.
“The girl you told us about, Neema. She was the only one there—it had been only her for months.”
He watches as her eyes fill with tears, offering his hand for her to hold. She takes it, thumb tracing his scars unconsciously.
“Just her…alone with him for months. Gods, is she…I feel like okay isn’t the right word for what I want to ask,” She says, sadness written all over her face.
“She will be okay,” Azriel said. “She’s in bad shape. Pregnant, malnourished but we have an amazing healer and a library below the mountain. Many priestesses live there. Many of them have experienced similar traumas. They’ll help her heal.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn’t sure what was going through her head as she sat there silently, grasping his hand and tracing his scars.
“I want him to die.” It’s fierce. Heated. Emotional. And it does something to Azriel’s heart, to his brain. He squeezes her hand. “I want him to feel everything we felt. To know the fear he put us through. I want him to suffer and then I want him to die.”
“He will die. I swear to the Mother. I’ll get every drop of information from him and when it’s time his death will be painful and slow,” Azriel swore, gently swiping a tear from her cheek.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
The next day is a day Cassandra would remember forever. She hadn't slept much the night before but Morrigan had practically begged her to have lunch.
Cassandra wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for a day out in the city but she felt safe with Morrigan. She nearly asked if Azriel could come too until she learned he would be spending the day collecting information from Kamari and Vale.
Morrigan picked out her outfit for the day and it was one of her favorites she’s worn since being here. A flowy silk top that tucked into a dark pair of slacks that raised high on my hips. They emphasized her longer legs in a way she had never noticed before. She had also pinned Cassandra’s hair up and out of her face.
She liked the way Azriel smiled at her when he saw her dressed this way. She blushed but was quickly rushed away by Morrigan, shouting something about wanting you to herself for the day for girl time.
Their first stop was a place she called the River House. A beautiful home that her mother would have loved. Morrigan had only had them stop here briefly to grab a few tote bags, wanting to shop while they were out but promised to bring her back and give her a proper tour of the house.
The city was even more beautiful when you were in it. The sun was shining bright in an endless blue sky. Better than any dreams she had ever had about it.
They went to bakeries, where Cassandra single handedly filled half a tote with various pastries.
Then a clothing shop where Morrigan helped her pick out some new clothes. A few everyday pieces. A gorgeous gown she wasn’t sure where she would wear it but Morrigan swore she would need it sooner or later. And then the softest, satin, dark blue nightgown—it had reminded her of the stones that glowed atop Azriel’s hands. Morrigan herself had picked out quite a few outfits and gowns of her own and a lace set that looked like something the girls in the pleasure houses would wear but she paid no mind to it—she was sure it would look gorgeous on Morrigan wherever she planned to wear it to.
Then they went to a place near the river for lunch, the glistening river was the perfect view while they ate.
“Do you feel like you’re settling in okay?” Morrigan asked, sipping on some kind of iced fruit tea while they waited for their food.
“I’m still…adjusting. I enjoy the company of everyone. I feel like I can trust you all. It’s just odd.” Cassandra says, taking a drink of her tea that was just slightly too sweet but she wasn’t complaining.
“What’s odd?” Morrigan asks gently.
“Trusting strangers more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else,” She says it like a confession, like she should be ashamed for feeling that way.
“I don’t think that’s odd,” Morrigan shrugged. “You’re around people like you, people you can relate to and get to know. It’s easy to feel safe with us in turn, causing your trust. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Cassandra smiles at Morrigan.
Their food comes soon after and they talk the whole time. Morrigan gives her the rundown of how Rhys, Azriel and Cassian all knew one another. She explained more about their titles and what each one of them did as a member of the inner circle. She told her about so much that Cassandra could believe she’d spent her whole live knowing practically none of it.
When they go to a bookstore Cassandra looks at a few before putting them back. Morrigan grabs them and tells her they’ll teach her to read—that she’ll love these books and so many more.
And when they finally get back to the House of a Wind it’s late. She's exhausted from carrying around nearly overflowing tote bags and eating more muffins then she can count.
A top the house where they have to land they’re greeted by the three males. Their solemn faces wiping the smile off your face. She caught Azriel’s eyes, sees the look of pure death there—a look that she just knows means he wants to kill someone.
And just like that, her perfect day with Morrigan took a turn straight down hill.
gracieabrams
kianamaiart
discoholicmusic
areudirty
ellievsbear
snowghoul