AITA for being mad at my bf for forcing me to go on a hike???
I (26F) and my boyfriend (519M) have been together for four months. We’ll call him “Caspian.”
First some context. Our first time having sex was wild. I had just been sexually assaulted that morning and I came home, took a bath, and tried to relax. Caspian had heard what happened and after my bath he walked into my room and fucked me super roughly. He came inside me and then he pulled out and immediately left. I was shocked and had no idea how to react to that.
Regardless, we’ve had sex a lot since then. I’m pretty sure I love him because the orgasms are really good and because letting him fuck me makes me feel like I’m worth something, which is something I really struggle with because of my abusive childhood.
But he’s also done some stuff that kinda upsets me. Like I was walking up a billion flights of stairs and was basically crawling when I got to the top because I was so exhausted and he just stood there and laughed at me instead of helping me up. Also his best friend despises me for some reason and Caspian never defends me at all. In fact he gets really pissed and screams at me if I complain about how his friend treats me. My sister is dating this friend and she also doesn’t defend me to him but that’s another story.
Anyways, on to what happened. So my sister is pregnant, and some really critical medical information about the pregnancy was withheld from her. I guess the doctor told her bf and assumed he’d share it with my sister but he never did. But Caspian knows about it and he told me. Actually everyone in our friend group knows about it except my sister. Her bf forced me and everyone else to keep it a secret because he doesn’t want to “stress her out.”
So a few days ago I got really angry because I learned the friend group including my sister was keeping something about ME from me, and it felt so similar to them keeping this medical info from my sister that I blew up at her and blurted it out.
Her bf found out I told her and he threatened to kill me. Caspian was also super pissed at me and as punishment he basically kidnapped me and took me into the woods and forced me to go on a really long hike and carry all the heavy supplies myself.
Now I’m mad at him for how he reacted and for forcing me to go on this hike, but he says I’m overreacting and acting like an asshole. So reddit please tell me, AITA for being mad at him????
"but my bare hands paved their paths" - Azris one shot
Summary: Eris and Azriel have a fight about whose family they're going to spend Solstice with this year and Eris makes a terrible mistake. One-shot.
Word count: 3,557
CW: nfsw smut
Read on AO3 here.
Written for @azrisweek 2025
but my bare hands paved their paths
“Because I left my family for you!”
Azriel’s voice, hoarse from fighting, rang out in their rooms, echoing off the walls.
Eris froze for a moment before he found his words. “I thought I was your family, too.”
“You are,” Azriel bit out tightly. His eyes softened. “Of course you are, Gingerbread.”
A beat of silence echoed between them.
“This is the first Solstice ever that my family can be a real family,” said Eris. “The first year without Beron. The first year that we’re not all puppets doing his bidding in an effort not to get burned. I need to be here for them.”
“This is the first Solstice since I left and moved to Autumn,” retorted Azriel, his wings tucked in so far they were nearly touching. “Solstice is so important to Rys and Cassian, plus it’s Feyre’s birthday, and I want them to know I haven’t completely abandoned them.”
Eris blew out his breath in frustration. They’d been at this fight for an hour. He’d thought that after so many centuries together, hiding in secret, that once their relationship came out into the light everything would be easier. But it seemed like they only had new problems now. Like where to spend Solstice this year.
“You have a lifetime of Solstices ahead of you to be with your brothers. The brothers you don’t even like!” Azriel growled. “And your mother is going to be in Day Court with Helion.”
Rage suffused his body at Azriel’s dismissiveness. Eris clenched his jaw and rubbed his gritty eyes. “I can’t take any more of this tonight. I’m going to sleep.”
He stalked off to their bedroom and shed his clothes down to his underwear, his skin hot and prickling from their fight.
Flinging himself into bed, Eris extinguished the lights. Petty, he knew. Azriel could get undressed in the dark just fine, but occasionally he needed to sleep with the lights on, and usually Eris would ask him if he preferred them left on before they went to bed.
Eris took some deep breaths to try to calm down, then shifted to lie on his side, facing the wall.
A few minutes later, Azriel walked in on silent footsteps, as he always did. His clothes rustled as he took them off and dropped them in the basket, then the bed dipped under his weight.
Eris didn’t turn over. Rage still simmered inside of him.
Azriel sighed into the darkness and the bed shifted again as he moved. His hand brushed down over Eris’s bare arm.
The anger smoldering within Eris ignited and he yanked his shoulder away from Azriel’s touch. He heard the sharp intake of Azriel’s breath, and Eris bit out, “I don’t want to be touched right now.”
Azriel didn’t say anything and rolled over. The sound of his wings shifting whispered in the room.
A twinge of regret creeped through Eris, but the anger quelled it. Azriel remained still and silent, and after a long time, Eris finally drifted off.
****
The shout that woke him was deeply familiar. Azriel’s nightmares woke them both quite often. Eris felt the bed shift, and he twisted and rose up on his elbow, catching sight of Azriel’s bare back as he stumbled towards the open balcony off their bedroom. In the dim room, his wings looked like black voids in front of his body.
The sheer curtains separating the room from the balcony billowed in the night air as Azriel slipped past them. Since Eris’s magic always kept the room warm, there weren’t any doors.
Eris lay on the bed for a moment, propped on his forearm. His other hand scrubbed over his face. The fight and the anger rushed back as he shook off sleep. The anger was muted, but still lingered, curled within him.
Eris wondered if Azriel had flown off. He occasionally took flights after bad nightmares, but usually it was enough to bury his face in the crook of Eris’s shoulder while Eris rubbed his back. It was quite strange for Azriel to leave the bed immediately. Eris assumed he was still angry too.
When Azriel didn’t come back after a couple minutes, he gave into the slight worry niggling at him, climbed out of bed, and padded barefoot outside to see if Azriel was still on the balcony.
He was.
Half bent over, wings shaking, gasping for breath, Azriel’s two scarred hands gripped the balcony railing like it was the only thing anchoring him to this world.
All the remaining anger eddied out of Eris like the sea’s tide going out.
He hurried over and ducked under Azriel’s left elbow, standing in the lee between his outstretched arms, before his bowed form.
He took Azriel’s face in both of his hands.
“Bunny,” he whispered, his pet name for him, which Az pretended to hate but Eris knew he secretly loved. Eris had started calling him that centuries beforehand, early in their relationship, because he once joked that the way the tucked-in Illyrian wings stuck up over Azriel’s head resembled bunny ears.
“Breathe, Bunny.”
Eris ran his hands through Azriel’s sweat-damp hair, down his neck, his bare shoulders. Tugging Az up by his neck, Eris caught sight of the tears running down his face as he gasped for breath.
“C’mon, love, slow deep breaths,” Eris murmured, dragging his thumbs back and forth over Azriel’s cheekbones. “It’s okay, Bunny. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”
Azriel’s arms shook beside Eris’s hips as he struggled to exhale more slowly. Gradually his breaths deepened and slowed against Eris’s continuous stream of soothing words, and he rested his forehead on Eris’s shoulder, tucked into his neck. Eris pressed a kiss to his hair and Azriel let out a tiny sigh.
Eris never stopped running his hands over Azriel’s skin, over his face, his shoulders and arms. As Azriel calmed down, Eris smoothed over his deltoids, his muscled forearms, back to Azriel’s hands which were still gripping the balcony railing.
But when he brushed over the scarred skin, Azriel jerked back, tucking his hands behind him. His eyes were shut and his face was twisted up. He breathed heavily through his nose.
Eris froze. “Az,” he murmured.
Shock and horror sluiced through him. Time drew out, slowed and sharp. There was a dim roaring in his head as the scene from earlier played in his head.
Eris swallowed, his dry throat. He felt like he was walking on the edge of a cliff. His heart beat furiously.
“I didn’t want to be touched,” he whispered. “It had nothing to do with your hands.”
Azriel didn’t move, his shadows swarming around him. Only his brow tightened, which told Eris everything he needed to know.
“Look at me, Azriel,” Eris implored. “Please.”
His eyes cracked open. Darkness lurked in them. Distrust.
It broke Eris’s heart.
“I was mad,” Eris confessed, trying to swallow again. “I just didn’t want to be touched.”
Azriel hadn’t moved, his hands still hidden behind his back.
Eris pressed on. “It had nothing to do with your hands,” he said. “Nothing. You know how much I love your hands. If you had put your foot on me, I’d have reacted the same way. Cauldron, if you’d have put your dick on me I’d have reacted the same way, and you definitely know how much I love your dick.”
The corner of Azriel’s mouth ticked just a tiny bit. It gave Eris enough hope to keep going.
“You know how much I love your hands,” he repeated, urgency coloring his voice. “I’ve told you ten thousand times. I’ve kissed them ten thousand times. I’ve put salve on them ten thousand times. Please,” he begged, “Please don’t let one second of me being stupid and angry erase that.”
Eris could feel pressure building behind his eyes, Azriel’s motionless figure going blurry. “I’m so sorry, Bunny. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He took a shaky breath. “I didn’t—” Tears welled, then one spilled down his left cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you doubt four hundred years of—of—”
Azriel suddenly moved, reaching out to cup Eris’s face, his thumb swiping away the wetness there. Eris inhaled sharply and leaned his face into the curve of Azriel’s hand.
“I know, Gingerbread,” Azriel murmured. “I know you didn’t.”
Warmth flooded his veins, heating the ice that chilled them, the ice his magic couldn’t seem to touch.
“Come here,” Azriel said, dragging Eris closer by his neck, embracing him. Eris slipped his arms around the small of Azriel’s back.
He heaved a sigh, his body relaxing in Azriel’s arms as the adrenaline slowly leaked out of him.
A while later, a calm quiet floating between them, Eris pulled back a little, reaching up to brush Azriel’s hair back from his forehead. “I just remembered that we didn’t put salve on your hands tonight.”
Azriel’s brows went up slightly. “Because you flounced off to bed.”
“I did not flounce!” Eris sputtered.
“You flounced,” Azriel said, a ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “Even though I was pissed, it was still kind of cute.”
Eris rolled his eyes then met Azriel’s gaze. He bit his lip timidly. “Will you let me put salve on now?”
Azriel searched his face for a moment. Eris held his breath. “Say you flounced off to bed and I’ll let you.”
Eris sighed dramatically. “No.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Say it.”
“Fine, I flounced.” Eris glared at him playfully. “A little bit.”
Azriel’s lips curved. “I’ll accept it.”
***
Eris lit the lamps while Azriel got into bed, sitting up against the headboard, his wings arranged around him. Padding to the bathing room to get the salve, Eris glanced back at Azriel who was focused on pushing the sheets down with his feet. Warmth curled his chest that had nothing to do with his magic.
After retrieving the jar from the counter where they always kept it, Eris crawled into bed, climbing on top of Azriel to straddle him, seated in his lap.
The salve helped with the lingering pain of the scars and his hand flexibility. Massaging it in was something Eris had done every night they were together, and now that he was High Lord and Azriel had moved in, it was nightly. Azriel would always roll his eyes and mutter that his two hands could rub themselves perfectly fine, but Eris insisted. It was his favorite time of day. And Az wouldn’t admit it but it was his too.
The familiar menthol scent of the salve floated up between them. Eris cupped a hand around Azriel’s neck and leaned forward to capture his lips in a slow, gentle kiss, tangling their tongues together. Azriel’s large hands gripped Eris’s thighs, running up and down them.
Eris finally pulled back, smiling down at Azriel. He picked up one of the scarred hands off his thigh and drew it up and dropped a kiss on the whorled skin. He did it again, holding Azriel’s gaze.
Something flickered in Azriel’s eyes, then disappeared.
Dipping his fingers into the salve, Eris spread it over Azriel’s hands, working it into the grooves and ridges. Every inch of those scarred hands had been long committed to memory.
Azriel glanced down from time to time, but mostly met Eris’s eyes, though there seemed to be an edge of nerves in those hazel orbs, in the way his teeth worked as his lower lip.
Eris dipped his head down to capture them, kissing him softly.
When he pulled away, Azriel mumbled, “I could do this myself, you know.”
“Shut up. I’m doing it and you can’t stop me.”
Azriel’s gaze flickered down to his hands and then back up to Eris, a small smile on his face.
They were quiet for a minute as Eris worked. He weighed if he should leave the moment or broach what had been tumbling around in his head.
Throwing caution to the wind, Eris said in a soft voice, “I know it seems like I don’t like my brothers.” Azriel went still. “But I’ve never known them outside of the shadow of Beron. I want to give them a chance to show who they actually are.” He sighed. “I want to see if we can be a real family, instead of a group of vipers vying for self-preservation.”
Azriel searched his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That I upset you so much. That I threw it in your face that you didn’t like them.”
Eris shook his head. “You weren’t wrong. I just don’t want it to be that way. And it feels like this could be our first chance, and I need to take it. And if I let the moment pass by…” He trailed off.
Azriel was quiet for a moment.
“Maybe,” he began, his voice raspy, then cleared his throat. “Maybe I could ask Rhys if he’d push dinner back an hour, and you could move Autumn’s forward an hour, and we could…do both.” His voice rose a little at the end, almost but not quite a question.
Azriel’s hands were nearly dry by now, the salve fully absorbed into the scarred skin. Eris ducked his head down to kiss them again.
He straightened. “Are you going to rub my belly after I’ve eaten two dinners?”
Azriel snorted. “Sure, Gingerbread, I’ll rub your belly. Even though I’ve seen you eat four dinners and be perfectly fine.”
“You promised to never mention that night again!” Eris exclaimed hotly, prompting Azriel to unleash a silent laugh, the bed shaking beneath them.
“Okay?” Azriel asked after he calmed down.
“Okay,” Eris responded, nodding. He pressed his lips together for a moment, his hands still running over Az’s scarred ones. “Are we okay?”
Azriel nodded. “Yeah. We’re okay, Gingerbread.”
The remaining tightness coiled within him loosened, then dissolved. Eris wrapped his arms around Azriel’s neck and kissed him, softly, then with more urgency, and Azriel responded. Heat blossomed between them, intense, scorching.
He drew his nails down Azriel’s upper back, down to the branches of his wings and fingered the tough membranes there, making Azriel hiss into the kiss and his cock jerk under Eris. He ground down on it, feeling the length thicken against his balls, his own cock hard in his black undershorts.
Azriel massaged Eris’s dick through his shorts, and a soft moan escaped from him before he recaptured Azriel’s mouth, their tongues sliding together.
“I want to fuck you,” Eris murmured. “I want to take care of you.”
“Yes,” Azriel answered, licking at Eris’s neck.
Eris pulled away, rising off Az’s lap and dragging him forward by his arm to twist and lay across the bed, wings splayed out.
He looked down at all that golden skin, gleaming in contrast against the darkness everywhere—dark hair, dark wings, dark underwear, dark shadows, dark sheets. And the glorious darkness he knew lay inside his shadowsinger.
With a flick of fire magic, both of the shorts they were wearing burned away. Azriel narrowed his eyes playfully.
“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t like fire near my dick?”
Eris grinned. “How many times do I need to suck your dick for you to know I’d never let anything happen to it?”
“Once more, evidently,” Azriel retorted. An old game of theirs.
And like always, Eris complied, expertly taking the thick cock deep down his throat. A groan punched out of Azriel’s chest.
Eris’s tongue dragged up his length as he pulled back, sucking on the crown, and then flicked along the largest vein on his way back down. His throat rippled around the member, making Azriel thrust up involuntarily, his hips jerking.
Azriel might excel at rimming, but sucking cock was Eris’s speciality and it never failed to make Az wild.
“Want—want you inside of me,” gasped Azriel moments later, his hands clenching and unclenching around the bedsheets.
Eris pulled off, pressing his tongue into Az’s slit one last time, making him curse, low and dirty.
Summoning oil from the pocket, Eris coated his fingers, then breached Azriel’s hole. He stretched Azriel slowly, soon adding a second finger, then crooked them together, firmly stroking the bundle of nerves that sent a stream of babbling filth tumbling from Azriel’s mouth.
Eris smirked. There was nothing he loved more than reducing Azriel to this.
“Need your cock now,” Azriel begged. “Please, Gingerbread, please give it to me.”
By now Eris was three fingers deep, rhythmically stimulating Azriel’s prostate. Azriel reached down to stroke his own cock, seeking relief, but Eris slapped it away.
“That’s mine, and I say when it gets touched,” Eris growled.
A dark red flush suffused Azriel’s chest and cheeks. He moaned. But obeyed.
“Please,” he whined, “Please put it in me.” His fingers were twisted so tight in the sheets that Eris wondered if they’d rip.
“No,” Eris said, “You have to earn my cock in your ass.”
He slicked up his dick with oil using his other hand, just to drive Azriel crazier.
“Eris, please—”
“Tell me how much I love your hands.”
Azriel lifted his head and glared at Eris. Then he dropped it back to stare at the ceiling. The blush in his cheeks deepened.
“Tell me how much I love your hands,” Eris repeated, mercilessly dragging his fingertips over the spot inside Azriel that was making his cock leak like a faucet, pearls of liquid gleaming at the tip and then dripping down the sides and pooling in the deep grooves of his abs.
Az moaned again but didn’t say anything.
“Tell me—how much—I love—your hands,” Eris demanded, punctuating each phrase with a curl of his fingers.
Azriel broke. “So much,” He sobbed out the words, “You love my hands so fucking much, they’re your favorite part of me, you think they’re so hot, you love them, you love them, you love them, please, please—”
Eris pulled his fingers out, and slid his cock into Azriel in one smooth motion. Azriel cried out in relief. Setting a fast pace, Eris had one hand on his shoulder for leverage and the other hand slipped into Azriel’s, intertwining their fingers against the sheets.
Azriel’s legs wrapped around Eris’s waist and his cock bobbed between them, dark red and straining. Eris took his lips in a bruising kiss, then bit his way down Azriel’s neck to the sound of nonsense flowing out of his mouth. Begging and pleading.
Soon Eris pulled back and withdrew from Azriel’s hole. Azriel let out a dismayed, broken noise.
“Turn over,” Eris murmured, and he complied, scrambling onto his hands and knees.
Eris moved his knees on the inside of Az’s, coaxing them wider, and re-entered him smoothly, then tugged him back by his hips so they were both kneeling, lined up chest to back. Eris’s arm was wrapped around his chest and Azriel clutched his hand like a lifeline.
Azriel’s wings fluttered every time Eris’s cock hit his prostate, signaling how close he was.
“Okay,” Eris rasped, close to losing control himself, “You can touch your dick now, since you begged so beautifully for me.”
Azriel’s hand immediately went to grip his cock, his body sagging in relief as he stroked it. Eris brought his own hand down and wrapped it around Azriel’s, both of them jerking him off together.
“Such perfect hands,” he crooned in Az’s ear, “Wrapped around such a perfect cock.” Azriel moaned and his head dropped back onto Eris’s shoulder. “Every inch of you is fucking perfect. All that perfect skin. All that beautiful darkness underneath it.”
Azriel clenched around Eris as he erupted, his come spurting across his chest and abs, over both of their hands. Eris gasped as his own orgasm washed over him, coming deep within Azriel’s ass.
They both fell forward, Azriel’s wings still quivering, and Eris dropped kisses down his spine as his breathing eased.
Sitting back, Eris withdrew slowly, then watched his come drip down Az’s leg, smirking with satisfaction at it for a moment, before he erased both of their releases with a snap of magic.
Azriel was still crumpled on his hands and knees. Eris twisted on the bed to lay back against the pillows, dragging Azriel by the wrist to curl up against his side.
He could feel Az smile against his skin. “I love you too, Gingerbread.”
They lay there for a moment, cuddling. Eris reached out to take Azriel’s hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the scarred skin, before resting it on his chest, his own hand covering it.
Azriel yawned contentedly before peering up at Eris. “That was a little mean,” he said ruefully.
Eris played dumb. “Which part?”
Rolling his eyes, Azriel responded, “You know which part.”
Eris laughed. “You can pay me back later.”
“Don’t worry, I intend to.”
Eris kissed him. “Looking forward to it.”
Azriel laid back against him, his nose tucked into the crook of Eris’s neck, while Eris nuzzled his forehead.
“You want me to leave the light on tonight?” Eris murmured into his skin.
Mumbling a little, Azriel nodded against him.
Eris dimmed the lights to the level Azriel liked, and then drew the bedsheets over them.
“Goodnight, Bunny,” he whispered. Azriel was already asleep.
*Solstice night House of Wind sleepover*
Azriel: I’ve cockblocked Cassian a lot in the past. He might try to do it to us tonight.
Eris: He’s free to watch me fuck you.
Azriel:
Eris: *gleefully* Let’s traumatize him so much he’ll never get it up again.
Azriel: You’re thinking way too much about Cassian’s dick.
Eris:
Eris:
Eris: Maybe he’ll be so traumatized it’ll fall off.
Azriel: I got the assignment from corporate.
Eris: Yes?
Azriel: We’re supposed to fuck in a “safe-for-work” manner.
Eris: Then the first step is referring to it as “intimacy” instead of fucking.
Azriel:
Azriel: I’m going to intimacy you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
Eris:
Azriel:
Eris: Just file for unemployment now.
*pre-Azris*
Eris: What if the inn we’re stopping at tonight only has one bed left?
Azriel:
Eris: Would you sleep in the bed with me if you had to?
Azriel:
Eris: So you’d sleep on the floor?
Azriel:
Eris: I knew it. You’d sleep on the floor out of spite.
Azriel:
Eris: I’d sleep in the bed with you, you know.
Azriel:
Eris: Even though those giant bat wings would probably take up most of it.
Eris: And those massive muscles would take up the rest of it.
Eris: And that rumored huge dick—
Azriel: *interrupts* I’m going to fuck you tonight, don’t worry.
Azriel: Gingerbread, warm up my tea.
Eris: *does*
Azriel: Gingerbread, warm up my feet.
Eris: *does*
Azriel: Gingerbread, warm up my bath.
Eris: *does*
Azriel: Gingerbread—
Eris: *stomps his foot* Is that all I’m good for?? Warming shit up for you??
Azriel: Of course not.
Eris:
Azriel:
Eris:
Azriel: I would never ask you to warm up my shit. That’s disgusting.
Eris: I’ll send you a letter while you’re away on your mission.
Azriel: I’ll only be gone 48 hours.
Eris: I like writing letters.
Azriel: Your handwriting is illegible.
Eris: My handwriting is a fucking work of art!
Azriel:
Azriel: What are you going to say in this letter?
Eris: Well I was planning to opine about my perfect ass but now I intend to write an ode to my exquisite handwriting.
Azriel:
Eris: Jerk off to that.
*Eris angrily brushing his hair in the mirror*
Azriel: I love your red hair.
Eris: *huffs* I prefer to pretend it’s not red.
Azriel:
Eris:
Azriel: *raises his eyebrows* You like to pretend your hair isn’t red?
Eris: YOU like to pretend you’re not Illyrian.
Azriel:
Eris:
Azriel: Fine.
Yay, I'm excited to finally share this story with you that I've been working on since December 2024. It will a few chapters, and is a bit different to what I'm normally writing because what I have written so far, doesn't include any fluff. But we will see what the future brings.
The story is available on ao3, but you can read below the cut for a small snippet!
His amber eyes are locked on the leathery spine of a random book in the towering mahogany bookshelf on the opposite side of Beron’s office. The air that fills his nose is familiar, a scent he would remember everywhere—woodsmoke and aged mahogany, laced with something darker, something more sinister. It is strong within the chilly air that creeps in through a half-open window.
Chills run down his spine, goosebumps appearing on his skin the longer he listens to his father’s pen scraping over the paper. The High Lord isn’t paying attention to his oldest son, not yet, letting him stand in the middle of the room like a fool. Especially with the … certain kind of thing lying at his feet.
Slowly, Eris forces his eyes to move away from the bookshelf, back to his father. He won’t dare to look down, he isn’t ready to face what is there. Another life taken by his hands.
Beron sits behind a large polished oak desk, behind him, next the bookshelf, a fireplace soldering with embers. A heavy chandelier dangles above him, its candlelight casting long, wavering shadows upon Eris’ arms. The heir looks at them for a moment, then clears his throat. “Father,“ he tries again and eventually Beron lifts his gaze off the paper in front of him, an irritated expression on his face. Then his thick brow lifts.
Eris wipes his hands down his breeches. “I did what you told me to … the job is done.”
This truly catches the High Lord’s attention and he shoves back the piece of paper and slowly rises from his chair. He rounds the desk and flas hes Eris an approving look before dropping his gaze.
“My heart is filled with pride.” The smile on Beron’s face is sinister and doesn’t reach his eyes. Bile rises in Eris’ throat, the content of his stomach souring. Once the High Lord’s words were like balm to Eris’ soul. He made his father proud. Once he craved Beron’s approval as desperately as a leech craves blood.
Not any more. Now every word only makes him loathe his father more.
Eris’ gaze falls to the lifeless male by his feet, throat slit open, dead eyes staring up at him. Blood is leaking from his mouth, and despite hating this part about himself, Eris is untouched by the scene.
He may not like his father, but the male at his feet was a traitor to the Autumn Court and consequently also to him, to the heir of this court.
"Will we inform the family?" Eris wipes his knife on his coat, smearing the blood onto the brown fabric. "Send a letter?“
"Of course not." Beron clicks his tongue. "The wife will find out when he doesn’t return."
Eris hums lowly, his jaw set tight. This is something that does not leave him untouched. The wife’s pain, the tears she will shed when her husband — traitor or not— won’t come home and she will slowly realise what happened to him.
He sheathes his dagger, the one made by Nesta Archeron, and steps back.
"I’m always surprised about their idiocy, aren’t you?" Beron tilts his head to the side, observing the male. "How they truly believe we won’t catch them. How they believe that my intelligent and fierce son is not always a step ahead of them."
Manipulation through words … Eris once cherished his father's praises, falling for them completely. Now, he sees through the lie in them but keeps his realisation hidden. The mask of the perfect, cruel son will stay on his face for as long as Beron is alive. He can’t risk it.
Eris dips his chin in agreement and as a form of thanking his father for the praise, then wipes his hands down his breeches, ready to leave.
But he makes the bill without his father.
"I've been busy as well these past weeks," Beron declares with a haughty tone in his voice, turning on his heels, after poking the lifeless male’s head with his boot once more.
"Ah," Eris mumbles, already halfway to the door. His job is done here, and he can't wait to wash his hands clean of all the blood that has been spilled. The mere thought of the amount of it churns his stomach.
"You don't want to know why, son?" Beron calls after him, his voice dripping with irritation as Eris turns back to him. Beron returns to his desk, grinding his teeth as he braces his large, bony hands on its surface. The tension in the room is palpable once more. Like a match has already been set on fire, ready to burn down the entire house.
Eris pauses, the door just within reach, his heart pounding in his chest. He wants to leave, wants to ignore his father, but once again doesn’t find the strength to do so. He turns back, meeting his father's cold gaze, and takes a reluctant step forward, bracing himself for whatever cruel revelation Beron has in store for him.
"I’ve been successful," Beron says, his voice dripping with pride in his voice. "The little rat –or should I say bat– once more tried to breach our guards. They’re sending him again, did you know? But this time, this time, he wasn’t successful." Beron clicks his tongue, his sneer never wavering as he holds Eris’ gaze. "Walked right into my trap, and it snapped shut!" Beron harshly smacks his hands together, the sound reverberating through the room and making Eris flinch.
Like sand slipping through his fingers, he can feel their love fading, sliding out of his grasp. He knows he‘s slowly losing him, and all he can do is sit, wait, and hope—hope for a whisper among the stars, a miracle to bring his mate back to him.
After Eris was rescued by Azriel and Cassian, he finds himself in the Night Court. The weight of his loss of control to the Mortal Queen Briallyn and the cruelty of his father threaten crush him. However, it is his mate who finds him and…
read on ao3 | warnings: talk about bad mental health | 5.8k words
evading my to-do list so that I could drop by and tell you how much I appreciate seeing your creations out there in the world You never fail to make me laugh or feel something so beautifully intense. Your talent is amazing! I hope today is wonderful!
