I am a fairly new writer and would love prompts to help strengthen that writing!! Love books!!! ACOTAR, TOG, Addicted series, Like Us series, and many more.
Second you in loving depressed, dark circle, chronic insomniac Azriel with demonic possession undertones. I feel like often he’s portrayed as very soft uwu baby or dark daddy dom when really he’s a workaholic grouchy introvert with a fucked up sleep schedule.
Do you think he has any connections to Hel in the larger Maasverse? I’ve had a theory for a while that he’s a descendant of one of the princes which would explain how he ended up with Truth-Teller.
Anyway, just want you to know that I picture your version of both Az and Gwyn when I write in canon, so thanks for the inspo!
Yes, absolutely! Though I’ve never thought of what kind of connection Azriel might have to Hel until now. Your ask got me to think…
What if Shadowsingers, rare as they are, were actually created by one of the Princes of Hel? I wish Truth-Teller wasn’t Gwydion’s twin, but rather a long-forgotten weapon once wielded by a long-dead Prince of Hel. Azriel could have discovered it eons later, feeling a strange connection to it, as it was the very weapon responsible for birthing his kind.
(Excuse my poor attempt at drawing shadow- soldiers/beasts. This is basically what I had in mind. This too)
Let’s say Shadowsingers were once a single shadow entity. But over time they split, with shadows becoming just one part of a person rather than their whole form.
A good number of them remain in Hel, but they've transformed into strange, nasty creatures. In Prythian, there are hardly any left, and Azriel may be the last. There are a few in Throne of Glass and Crescent City worlds, but they differ from Azriel.
It is very difficult to find any information about Shadowsingers. No one knows where they come from or how they came to be.
Who gave them the title 'Shadowsinger' anyway? What if it was simply a fitting name given by a mad scholar who first encountered someone with dark, shadow powers? What if these soldiers originally had a different name, given to them by the long-dead Prince of Hel?
And let’s give Shadowsingers the ability to shapeshift. I’ve always found it strange that Azriel is considered the best spymaster in the world, yet everyone knows he’s the Night Court's spymaster, which defeats the whole purpose of being a spy. It’s like imagining a Russian spy working in an American office, and everyone there knows he's a Russian spy. (Lol)
But what if Azriel could change his identity through his shadows? That would truly make him the best spymaster. He wouldn’t need to go through the trouble of creating fake identities; he could simply turn himself into one of Beron’s personal guards. People might know who the Night Court’s spymaster is, but they’d never know when or who he’s pretending to be. Additionally, he could winnow through his shadows instead of using the typical method. By commanding his shadows, he could transport himself anywhere, making him even more powerful than Rhys in terms of winnowing. He wouldn’t need to pause for breath like Rhys; he could take 10 people with him effortlessly.
Connect that to the shadow soldiers from Hel. They used to transform into whatever they liked (like this) and winnow with ease, which is why the war went on for like forever. The prince’s army was incredibly difficult to take down.
Shadowsingers still speak the language of Hel to this day. Azriel uses it to communicate with his shadows, and only Shadowsingers can understand this language—no one else. They don’t even have to learn it.
Okay, wait—can we consider that the winning side was the mother, leading her own army? That Gwydion was wielded against the Prince of Hel? Thus, the Maas universe was forged from the remnants of that eternal war ages ago.
And while Gwyn isn’t related to the sword like Azriel is to the dagger, nor to the soldiers who fought for the mother, as a priestess who worships her, she does have that little connection.
It would be quite amusing for the Fates to pair a descendant of those Hel creatures with a priestess who worships the Mother as mates.
Good god, I somehow pulled this out of my ass. Now I have to incorporate that idea into my story cause it‘s kind of awesome.
Anyway, I’d Iove to read your fic. It makes me happy to know that people use my art as inspiration 🥹
What Feyre’s story needs is a remarkable villain. I’ve thought about designing them as monstrous-looking creatures (gargoyle & giant like) instead of the average, extremely beautiful High Fae. The creatures in this land are purely evil: they hunt, rape, and slaughter for sport. Most of them -kind of- don’t have a mind of their own. They require a master to command them.
The King is the only one who appears somewhat normal-looking, due to the fact that he was once a human general who fought alongside the Fae to fight off the same creatures he now commands. He was betrayed by the Fae (specifically the High Lords) and turned into… that. He was banished to that land, where he adjusted over the years and eventually rose to power as King. Now, he seeks to destroy the magic of Prythian so that no High Lords will ever rule again.
- Marcellus (the King‘s unofficial name) isn’t related to Brannagh or Dagdan, though they are his second and third in command. He surrounds himself with those who have a better comprehension and understanding level than most of them (including the ones he made his generals).
- Marcellus and Jurian used to be friends. You can just imagine the reunion when the king revived Jurian!
- He has tried to turn back to his human self numerous times. Even when he gets burned from the inside out in the Cauldron, he stays the same.
- The Swordfighter guy (4th sketch) is inspired by the last boss 💕
Overall, this way the villain could have a connection to not just Feyre, but Nesta and Elain too.
However, I’m not going to use the term “Hybern” to describe the land of these cruel people. It’s very clear that Hybern is suppose to represent Ireland (racist much?), so I’ll do my best to remove anything Irish-related from that land. I’m thinking of calling it something like the “Land of the Giants” or something similar. I’d appreciate it if you could recommend some well-fitting names. I’ve already thought of a few terms to refer to these creatures, like “Garganths” and “Wyrdgards.”
How’s one to know?
I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones
In a faith-forgotten land
In from the snow
Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow
Tarnished but so grand
-
Eris and Iris.
Son of a high lord. Daughter of a fiend.
An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the fight, the two are more alike than they’d like to be. Follow Eris and Iris as they navigate a relationship that neither of them asked for, the politics that dictate so much of their lives, and what happens when feelings start to find their way between them. / Tropes to expect: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, dislike to love, slow burn. / Read on AO3
Eris x Iris inspiration | SMTB inspiration | Iris | playlists | Art | Asks | Headcanons | Family List | Vanserra Brothers | Moodboards
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
~
Eiris Prompt - Iris on her cycle.
Snippets
Drawing Up the Plans - Eiris Valentine’s Day Modern AU
Roots in My Dreamland [ Eris Week Day 1 ]
Smokehounds & Surprises [ Eris Week Day 4 ]
In the Shadows of War [ Eris Week Day 5 ]
Moth to a Flame [ Eris Week Day 6 ]
✨SJM Writing Masterlist
***All my writing belongs to me with a disclaimer that any character that isn’t an original character belongs to their authors. Do not copy or claim my work as your own. Do not feed my work into AI or third-party platforms. Do not translate my writing without my permission. I do not consent for my work to be reposted anywhere.
How’s one to know?
I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones
In a faith-forgotten land
In from the snow
Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow
Tarnished but so grand
-
Eris and Iris.
Son of a high lord. Daughter of a fiend.
An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the fight, the two are more alike than they’d like to be. Follow Eris and Iris as they navigate a relationship that neither of them asked for, the politics that dictate so much of their lives, and what happens when feelings start to find their way between them. / Tropes to expect: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, dislike to love, slow burn. / Read on AO3
Eris x Iris inspiration | SMTB inspiration | Iris | playlists | Art | Asks | Headcanons | Family List | Vanserra Brothers | Moodboards
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
~
Eiris Prompt - Iris on her cycle.
Snippets
Drawing Up the Plans - Eiris Valentine’s Day Modern AU
Roots in My Dreamland [ Eris Week Day 1 ]
Smokehounds & Surprises [ Eris Week Day 4 ]
In the Shadows of War [ Eris Week Day 5 ]
Moth to a Flame [ Eris Week Day 6 ]
✨SJM Writing Masterlist
***All my writing belongs to me with a disclaimer that any character that isn’t an original character belongs to their authors. Do not copy or claim my work as your own. Do not feed my work into AI or third-party platforms. Do not translate my writing without my permission. I do not consent for my work to be reposted anywhere.
How’s one to know?
I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones
In a faith-forgotten land
In from the snow
Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow
Tarnished but so grand
-
Eris and Iris.
Son of a high lord. Daughter of a fiend.
An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the fight, the two are more alike than they’d like to be. Follow Eris and Iris as they navigate a relationship that neither of them asked for, the politics that dictate so much of their lives, and what happens when feelings start to find their way between them. / Tropes to expect: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, dislike to love, slow burn. / Read on AO3
Eris x Iris inspiration | SMTB inspiration | Iris | playlists | Art | Asks | Headcanons | Family List | Vanserra Brothers | Moodboards
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
~
Eiris Prompt - Iris on her cycle.
Snippets
Drawing Up the Plans - Eiris Valentine’s Day Modern AU
Roots in My Dreamland [ Eris Week Day 1 ]
Smokehounds & Surprises [ Eris Week Day 4 ]
In the Shadows of War [ Eris Week Day 5 ]
Moth to a Flame [ Eris Week Day 6 ]
✨SJM Writing Masterlist
***All my writing belongs to me with a disclaimer that any character that isn’t an original character belongs to their authors. Do not copy or claim my work as your own. Do not feed my work into AI or third-party platforms. Do not translate my writing without my permission. I do not consent for my work to be reposted anywhere.
Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama
Warnings: physical abuse/triggering language.
Author’s Note: In case you missed it, I commissioned an art of Iris here! Thank you for reading, we're gearing up for the end soon!!!
thank you @riorsonxaden for always being my cheerleader <3
Eris barely had a moment to breathe through the effects of the faebane when his father’s fire slammed into him and propelled him through the glamour hiding them, straight across the room. He landed with a grunt among the startled crowds as they gasped – even screamed at his sudden appearance.
He didn’t give himself a moment to let his father catch him in this vulnerable position and quickly twisted on his knees, slowly standing and trying to get a sense of his magic; the deep well he had been storing for months – all of it in was empty.
Eris had deeply miscalculated.
He should’ve drank his antidote sooner and now he didn’t have time to grab it as the High Lord began his casual stroll down the dais, his eyes never leaving Eris as the crowd slowly parted in shock, backing away from father and son.
“In the last few days something truly harrowing has come to my attention.” the High Lord said, addressing the room as he walked toward Eris. “And it pains me to share this news with you all on what should be a celebratory night.”
The High Lord spoke in an airy tone and Eris bared his teeth as he braced himself against his father. “Why did you bother standing? Traitors kneel.”
And his father had certainly been holding back earlier because when he slammed his magic into Eris, it made him double over in pain that he hadn’t felt in a long time as the High Lord forced him to his knees. “Father.”
Beron stood before his son, grimacing down at him then glanced at the crowd around them. “I can see how confusing this must be, to watch your High Lord bring your crown prince to his knees.” the High Lord continued. “But you see…my sons have betrayed me and the people of this court. There has been a plot for my demise.”
Eris struggled against the force of his father’s magic, his muscles straining as he glared at the High Lord. “Do not twist the situation!” Eris seethed. “You are the only one who betrayed this court.”
Beron scowled, waving his hand as his magic wrapped around Eris’s throat and squeezed. “As your High Lord, it is my duty to protect this court from those who try to undermine its stability. My sons have threatened to do just that,” he said, still in that light tone that made Eris’s blood boil and glanced at the crowd. “They have plotted against me and in doing so, broke my heart and cast light on the unfortunate reality of traitors amongst us. And as you all know, I do not take treason lightly.”
Whispers traveled among the crowd as they watched this unfold in shock and disbelief, unease spreading but Eris paid them no mind. He only gritted his teeth, his mind racing for a way to break free of his father’s hold but didn’t dare glance at the archers or his sentries who should’ve been infiltrating the room.
Beron raised a hand, silencing the hall with a single gesture. "My loyal subjects," he began, his voice carrying across the room. “It grieves me to reveal the betrayal that has festered from within my family but rest assured, no one is above my law, not even my own flesh and blood and I will purge this court of their poison.” His gaze swept the room before landing back on Eris who was panting, fighting to escape the contained bubble his father had him in. “Starting with my eldest son.”
Eris’s gaze was livid as Beron stepped closer to him. “After everything I have given you, you still conspired against me and dragged your mother and brothers into it, breaking this family apart.”
“That is not –”
His father’s magic slammed into him and Eris groaned as the High Lord gripped him by the collar and slammed his fist in Eris’s face. “I hereby strip you of your title as crown prince.” His father’s fist slammed into his throat and Eris wheezed as he felt his airway close. “Your assets.” Another fist slammed into his chest. “Alongside any and all privileges you had as my son.”
Eris knew just how personal this moment was for his father to use his own fists to beat him. To try and break him in front of the court. He knew just how angry the High Lord was as blood clogged his throat from the fist of fire his father landed to his gut and he wheezed a breath as Beron pulled him up by the front of his shirt. “You are no son of mine and will rot as a traitor in our dungeons. Your wife will share your fate and so will whichever of your brothers side with you.”
The High Lord dropped his son and Eris felt himself sag on his knees, breathing heavily as he braced himself on shaky arms. It was fine. He’d taken beatings. He’d bled like this before. He would be fine.
Especially because his father’s magic had released him and Eris spat blood, his ears ringing as the High Lord continued to give his speech. He blinked his watery eyes, every inch of him in pain, wheezing another tight breath through his achy throat and he raised a shaky hand to his jacket, patting for the antidote. If he took it now, he would be fine. He could get back on his feet and launch his attack.
“Ah, my other sons.”
Eris’s head snapped to the side and he watched as Finn and Izak staggered to a halt, both slightly battered as though coming back from a fight themselves; Izak’s sword was coated with blood as were Finn’s twin blades.
“You come with raised weapons and expect me to believe you haven’t betrayed me.” The High Lord mused but there was no light in his eyes as he observed Izak and Finn slowly walking around him to reach Eris; only hatred shown in the High Lord’s dead gaze – only promised violence.
“We were attacked by soldiers that were not our own.” Finn spat. “Who would’ve ordered that hit, Father?”
The High Lord merely lifted a brow. “If you weren’t slinking around like thieves, this wouldn’t have happened to you.”
“Enough is enough.” Izak snarled. “You need to –”
“Ah, I see even my beast has turned on me,” Beron said, chuckling lightly and Eris felt his vision go red as Izak flushed deeply, anger rolling off his brother in waves. “I can’t count on you to gut your brothers for me now, can I?”
Before Eris could force himself to take a breath, the High Lord’s magic lashed out and threw him into his brothers, the three of them staggering back. Izak quickly straightened and shielded them. “The only person I am itching to gut here is you.”
“You threaten your High Lord so easily,” Beron said quietly, yet that promised violence in his tone carried throughout the room. “You are what I made you and yet, you bite the hand that fed you after all these years.”
Eris mustered his rage and again, tapped his jacket quickly. He needed that fucken antidote now and before his father noticed.
Finn carefully stepped in front of him, next to Izak as Eris’s hands shakily closed around the vial. Carefully uncorking the antidote, he swallowed it in one shot and felt his whole body shudder as his magic coursed through him almost explosively, awakening through his veins. Eris panted, gave himself a moment to be overwhelmed then rolled his head back as he slowly rose, turning to face his father, moving in front of his brothers who flanked him.
Eris’s glare was a fiery branding standing before his father, his chest rising and falling as he tried to continue his breathing. “How can you stand there and say everything you’re saying in front of the court and think they won’t see you for who you are?” he snarled.
Beron spared a glance to the crowd that was still watching this all unfold with bated breath. He let a heartbeat pass for a moment before glancing back at Eris. “And who am I, Eris?”
“A plague that’s rotted this land for far too long.” he spat and finally allowed his fists to burst into flame. “Tell me where the fuck my wife is.”
Beron watched his sons stand together and tilted his head, seeming to weigh his next steps – his next words, and Eris’s chest tightened when a dark smile formed on his lips.
“Ah, yes. My surprise.” the High Lord said and Eris’s heart sank. “Take a look. We are about to begin.”
Turning back to the crowd still helplessly watching this unfold, Beron waved a hand, his eyes never leaving his sons. “So that you all know that I am fair in my punishment, I want you to bring your gaze towards the dance floor and see for yourselves what becomes to those who even think to challenge the High Lord.”
Eris whirled and nearly choked as everything in him stilled.
He felt his magic snuff out.
He forgot where he was. He forgot everything that was happening. His wrath. His father. His very breath.
Everything before him slid away and he felt nothing but that thread at his ribcage. It ached. It burned.
His wife.
His mate.
His worst nightmare was unfolding before him and Eris felt his body begin to shake at the sight – his wife and three others had appeared battered and bruised.
He felt Finn’s rage behind him. He heard Izak’s sharp intake of breath.
But Eris felt nothing but sheer agony at the sight of his wife strung up on that fucken flogging pole and her bastard of a father standing beside her, smirking, a bloodied whip in his hand.
“No.”
The word slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it and if Eris had thought he had felt desperate before, it was nothing to the desperation clogging his throat right now.
“No.”
Eris barely had the chance to take a step when his father’s magic slammed into him yet again, forcing him once more to his knees and he roared against it. He knew his brothers were right by him and Eris strained to crack it – to break against it as he desperately tried to get to Iris.
His father came into view, smiling his cruel smile, yanking his head back. “Should you try to fight against me, your wife’s skin will continue to bleed.” he sneered quietly. “Remember how powerless you are against me and how every bit of pain she will receive – and she will receive much more of it – is all your fault.”
Eris snarled as his magic tried to burst out of him but his father only chuckled, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him so he could face his wife.
He felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of her unconscious body, sagging against the flogging pole, his eyes cataloging the skin marred with bruises – the blood was trickling down her temple.
“Iris.”
His call was as frantic as he felt and Eris shuddered as his magic rolled through him but his wife didn’t move. He wasn’t even sure if she was breathing and Eris wanted to die.
But the bond – surely if she had — if something had taken her away —
His gaze snagged on her dress and how it slipped down her shoulders, exposing the skin of her back but the thought left his mind as his father dropped him to the floor and then walked towards his wife. Panic unfurled in his chest as he tried to adjust himself, watching Beron observe Iris with a predatory look and that panic increased tenfold when his father met his gaze across the room.
“She’s so pretty tied up like this, is she not.” he taunted and Eris’s vision went red, steam rising from his hands.
“Don’t fucken touch her.” His demand was guttural, forcing himself not to lash out. His father was too close to his wife – he was too close to touching her –
The High Lord chuckled and Eris let out a wheezing sound as his father’s magic tightened on his windpipes, dread pounding beneath his skin. Because Beron took another step towards Iris then another, and Eris watched furiously as his father, as though he had all the time in the world, slowly ran a finger down Iris’s exposed back.
“How exciting is it to ruin what once was such soft skin.” the High Lord said quietly, glancing at the blood coating his finger and then smiling at Eris. “How lovely she will be with scars.”
“I said don’t fucken touch her.” he snarled wildly then choked as the High Lord squeezed hard enough, black lined his vision. “I will kill you I will —”
Even across the room, the High Lord’s magic tightened his grip on Eris’s throat as they watched each other and the High Lord tsked. “Don’t be selfish, Eris. Your wife isn’t the only one here. Think of how your brothers must be feeling.”
The rage of a thousand suns rushed through him and he knew his glare was spitting fire as his father smirked at him, knowing how badly the bastard had crossed a line.
Because Eris saw how Theo was barely breathing and knew Finn was frozen in place watching in disbelief. He knew the kind of thoughts that had to be crossing Izak’s mind watching his father-in-law lying lifeless. He could only imagine what Emil would do to see Cosette trembling in tears, blood coating her skin.
The urge to kill kill kill kill pounded through him like a symphony.
And Eris’s whole being began to shake again as the High Lord’s fire held him in place, forcing him further to the ground. Eris struggled against it but something was different about his father’s magic this time. It was more vicious – more brutal and it seemed to attack him with every breath he made as the High Lord waved a hand to Aron who stepped back.
“I knew you were a coward,” Eris spat venomously. “I didn’t think you’d need to have us held down to overpower us you filthy piece of shit. I will –”
“Did you know?” Beron said, ignoring Eris’s rant, his eyes darkening as he stared down at his son. “Apparently your wife so graciously volunteered to take all the lashings for the other three,” As his gaze returned to Iris’s bloodied back, the cruelty of his smile boarded on mania. “And just for your lip, I’ll begin the punishment myself.”
Eris lost whatever air he had left. “Don’t you dare –”
“Unless of course, you’d like me to begin with the others? Spare your wife a little longer at the expense of your brothers watching people they care about suffer?” Beron asked mockingly. “We can make you dread the anticipation of what’s to come, hm?”
After all this already, his father had the nerve to toy with them even more. Despite how badly he was shaking, Eris felt just how tense Finn and Izak had gotten next to him. Ash clogged his throat and just as he was about to open his mouth, his father beat him to it.
“But no. I’ve longed to make her bleed. To give her scars twin to yours,” he said and let out a chuckle that made the hair on Eris’s body rise. “I will finish what your father-in-law started and I will enjoy it.”
“You so much as touch that whip –” Eris threatened, panting, sweat pooling as his fire boiled beneath his skin and his father made the mistake of smiling.
Beron made his second mistake by taking another step toward Iris and Eris finally let himself detonate, consequences be damned.
Every bit of self-restraint he’d had, every bit of calm and logic he had held to, came unloose — his roar sounding through the hall as the ground shook.
Beron’s magic tried to latch onto him again and he felt the High Lord’s power slam into him but Eris was too angry, too lost in his own rage – his magic held, shielding him.
He had enough of thinking logically – holding back for the sake of avoiding collateral damage. He would not stand there and let his wife take any more than she had already taken.
Without a second thought, his magic flared and Eris sent a wave of his fiery magic straight for his father’s chest, and in the same breath, his hand lifted to give his archers their signal, sending ashwood arrows tipped in faebane for his father.
Then Eris paid it all no mind. He didn’t hear Finn’s roar or see him finally charging at their Father. He wasn’t truly aware of Izak’s bellow at their sentries to move forward.
Everything around him was hazy. Eris felt detached from himself as he turned back towards his wife. He saw nothing but her – his fucken mate strung up and bleeding and Eris ceased to feel anything at all.
His head had never been quieter even as the world around him was so loud.
People were yelling. There was rushed movement and the clashing of swords. But Eris heard none of it. He couldn’t focus on anything but Iris.
His Iris.
His wife.
The – the love of his wretched life. His light at the end of this very long tunnel.
What was the point of him and all his planning if she still ended up here? Hurt? Strung like a lamb for sacrifice?
What was the point?
He wanted the sound of his dagger to sing with his father’s blood but first –
Eris took a step, then another, trying not to run as flame licked each footstep, tugging on the mating bond. He tugged and begged her to move, to look at him, to even shift her fingers as he moved closer.
His hands began to shake as he kneeled before his wife and as gently as he could ever bring himself to touch her beautiful face, Eris lifted her chin.
The sight nearly broke him.
The bruises on her face...gods they were far worse than he could have imagined up close. They peppered her beautiful face in splatters of dark reds and purples from the corner of her temples to her jawline and what parts of her face weren't covered in bruises, were covered in ruffled tendrils of hair. Gone was the tiara he had given her – Eris had no clue where it was and didn't care as he gingerly brushed her hair to the side, his palm brushing along a swollen cheek and the ugly warmth that accompanied it. Her beautiful dress had tattered edges near where the whip had touched and Eris didn’t want to look too closely at what he’d find on her back. He didn’t know if he could handle it. Even if it was all his fault this had happened.
It was his fault for bringing this kind of pain into her life. He should’ve let her go sooner. He should’ve forced her to leave.
He should’ve done so many things differently and now she was paying the price.
So he forced himself to take a step around her and bile rose in his throat again at her exposed back, his shaking hands fisting at his sides.
His father hadn’t given an empty threat; her bloody scars would certainly match his own.
The silence that had been in his head was now filled with roaring. Anger surged through him, his vision blurred, and the dormant volcano he had kept on his magic was thumping violently in his veins. He was primal fury and if Iris didn’t wake or move or react to him in some way, he was going to kill everyone in this room then himself, starting with his fucken father. He tugged on the bond again and returned to her side, kneeling once more.
“Little gazelle,” he whispered and everything in him ached – everything hurt. She had been going through this while he had been here. He had left her to this fate. “Please tell me you can hear me.” He begged softly. “Please tell me you haven’t left me.”
But Iris didn’t respond and Eris’s hands started shaking again. “Iris, love. Please.” he pleaded. “Anything – give me anything, Iris. I can’t do this without you, please –”
“He – he went hard on her.”
Eris whipped his head to the voice that had spoken and found that it was Theo on his knees, chained a few feet from his wife. “What.”
Theo licked his lips and Eris noted the blood dripping from a cut on his cheek and how roughed up he looked, bruises all over him. “Her father. He wasn’t supposed to touch her until we got here but he – he enjoyed it too much. The fucker wouldn’t stop.” he said hoarsely. “She did it to save us. She took the brunt of it so Cosette and I wouldn’t.”
And Eris could see the shame in Theo’s eyes at the thought that he couldn’t have stopped the pain she was going through. “I’m sorry, Eris.” the blacksmith rasped. “I’m so sorry.”
Eris didn’t have it in him to do more than shake his head, sending a burst of his magic to cut through Theo and Cosette’s chains. “Take Cosette and Marcus and try to get out of here while they’re distracted. For Finn’s sake. Leave now.” he commanded then turned back to Iris and forced himself to swallow, taking in her state.
Gods, he had never hated himself more.
“Wife,” he whispered and desperation clogged his throat, fighting at the anger even as he started to feel his body go aflame. His voice was guttural as he begged again, “I need you to come back to me so I don’t kill everyone in this room. Please answer me.”
Eris tugged on the bond again, trying to send his love – his affection – his adoration for her, anything to get her —
She needed a healer, badly and his gaze filtered around the room. If he could find Nevien. If he could even try to heal her himself – his hands already brushing against her face and sending whatever healing magic he had to lessen the bruises.
But her back – his gaze drifted to the wounds he found there and the urge to vomit returned in full force. This was all his fault. He had done this to her.
He shouldn’t have let her stay. He should’ve shipped her to Lucien weeks ago –
The thought had barely left his mind when he heard a tiny whimper and Eris nearly fell over as his head snapped back on his wife and relief washed over him as she tried to open her eyes.
“Iris.” he breathed, his hands gently touching her face and again, he watched her with bated breath as Iris's eyelids fluttered, her consciousness waning as she struggled to focus on Eris's voice. The pain radiating through her body threatened to pull her back into the depths of unconsciousness, but his voice, the desperation in it reached her through the haze.
He needed her and Iris had to answer him.
“Eris…” Her voice was barely a whisper, raw with agony. Each breath felt like shards of glass against her lungs and everything fucken hurt as the echo of her father’s laugh rang through her ears – the sound and sting of the whip made her involuntary shudder. The movement caused a groan and another whimper slipped from her lips as she felt Eris finally release her from where she’d been strung. His hands warmed her lifeless arms with soft touches and Iris tried not to cry, tried to hold back tears at the sheer amount of relief that washed over her as Eris held her, his nose in her hair.
“I’m here, love," Eris murmured, his voice trembling with contained rage, letting his fire warm her clammy skin. “I’m here now. I’ve got you, little gazelle.”
Iris struggled to swallow – struggled to say more. She had tried not to scream, had tried not to give her father the satisfaction of knowing how much the whip had hurt and her throat felt too raw from holding back. But Eris was here with her. It was his tender touch on her body and Iris wasn’t sure which of them was trembling.
“It’s okay –” she whispered and tried to shift to meet his gaze. “Are you – are you okay? W-what’s happening?”
“Too much is happening. Everything went to shit and I –” he began then growled, every stress weighing on him. But she was awake. She was talking to him. She was alright. “I’m sorry, Iris. I should’ve sent you away sooner – I’m so sorry –”
“Eris, no.” she immediately chided hoarsely and struggled to sit up in his arms. Her back felt on fire, her arms felt useless and she tried to focus on her own healing magic, letting it work but gods, everything ached. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. Look at me –”
“I should’ve sent you away sooner.” he mumbled again, his gaze finally meeting hers and at her wince, his anger returned in full force. “You’re hurt.”
“I know but it was worth it – it –Theo! A-and Cosette!” ”she rasped and swallowed, hissing slightly as Eris shifted her. “We have to – and Lord Marcus! We can’t let them –”
“I already released them.” he said and cupped her face. “Wife, I need to focus on you. You’re hurt.”
“What about you?” she whispered. “Look at the bruises on you. Let me –”
“Iris.” he begged. “Focus on healing yourself, please. Take whatever of my magic you need –”
“No.” Her tone offered no argument as she forced herself to sit up even though every inch of her was screaming in agony. “You will not use any of it on me. You need it.”
He wanted to argue with her but he took in her disheveled appearance and what Eris really wanted to do was get her out of here. He ran his tongue over his teeth, his hands gently on her body even as they shook. “Fine, but let me help you. Let’s get you out of here.”
“And go where?” she breathed. “You think after all this I’m going to leave you?”
His expression hardened. “You think after what they already did to you I’d let you stay?”
“I have a score to settle,” she said and despite every inch of her skin screaming, she straightened in her husband’s arm. “And you will not deny me of it.”
Eris’s mouth went into a hard line. The sounds of fighting continued around them and yet, he could only focus on her. “You know I wouldn’t deny you anything but you can barely heal yourself, Iris.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Don’t be stubborn about this, wife.”
“I don’t care –”
“You’ve already been hurt enough for me – for others –”
“And I’d do it again.” she seethed. “Do not take this away from me. I couldn’t let them get hurt. I had to protect them.”
“Iris.” he said and couldn’t even chide her when he saw the earnest expression and her lip trembled.
“I never had people to protect or who would fight to protect me.” she whispered. “This is my family too now. I don’t care that I’m hurt.”
“I do.” he snapped then worked his jaw as he softened his tone. “This is my worst nightmare, Iris. I’m watching it play out and my father was about to start doing more.” he licked his lips. “Do not put me in a position to worry about you. I don’t even know what happened to my mother or Emil and –”
“I do. Before my father took me, they had been cornered by him in the guest wing but I healed them.” she said quickly. “They should be fine but I don’t know what else –”
“Eris!”
Izak’s roar had both of them turning and a shield of fire burst out of Eris to stop the attack of arrows that were aimed at his head. His eyes narrowed, assessing the chaos in the room.
He watched as Finn’s twin blades sank into every enemy that passed, trying to make his way to their father, who observed it all unfold in relished amusement. Eris watched as Izak shoved a group of five grunts off him, the swing of his sword sounding across the room. The blur of uniform colors fighting against each other and as more of his father’s bribed soldiers descended into the room, Eris knew the only way he could focus was to get Iris out of there.
“I need you to be safe, Iris. I can’t –”
He had barely turned, his body still facing the chaos and his distraction had cost him. Before Eris could move another muscle, the High Lord’s magic had shot out, hitting him square in the chest.
“Eris!” Iris shrieked, trying to move to get to him, wounds be damned. The High Lord only chuckled and Iris let out a groan as his magic slammed into her, pinning her where she sat.
He staggered back, clutching his chest at the assault but forced himself to stand between Iris and his father, and without waiting for his father to continue, he lashed out with his magic. His father met his flame with his own and Eris fumed at having to be further distracted from getting Iris out.
“Did you think you could sneak away, boy?” Beron snarled quietly as his flames surrounded them, cutting them off from their surroundings. “Slither away without paying the price for your treason?”
Eris’s eyes remained on his father and he allowed himself a breath then another and then, he let his mind go blank. He let his emotions cease. All his emotions except for his rage.
What was the point if he didn’t let go?
People thought him a monster anyway. Perhaps the only way to take out a monster was to become one.
For his mate. For his mother and brothers. For himself.
Eris straightened as he stood before the High Lord. The fire beneath his skin was scalding as it bubbled to the surface and slowly Eris let his wildfire reach his eyes.
“I will give you one chance to release my mate and step out of the way.”
“Or?” the High Lord taunted. “Are you finally working up the courage to kill your dear old father?”
Eris smiled humorlessly. “Killing you has always been the endgame, High Lord.” he said. “It was a childish dream to have hope for you.”
“Ah,” the High Lord mused. “And I suppose now that all of you have suddenly become knights in shining armor, you think to be better than I was?”
“We were always better than you,” Eris said, lifting his chin. “Our mother saw to that.”
“I left your mother for dead so a great deal that will do her.”
Eris forced himself not to flinch. “Or so you say,” he replied curtly. “Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time things have slipped out of your control or right under your nose.”
The High Lord flushed, anger overtaking his expression, as he glared at Iris and then back at his son. “You mock me and yet, you are barely holding it together because of a good-for-nothing female.”
Eris felt his magic thump beneath his veins. “You will not speak of her that way. Release her at once.”
“She will be the reason for your demise if you stay so focused on what happens to her.”
“You will be the reason for yours if you do not stand down.”
They stared at each other in silence for a moment or maybe a lifetime – Eris wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the male who was supposed to be his protector had died years ago and it was about time the walking corpse that had replaced him be gone.
Eris allowed himself a moment to mourn what could’ve been. He allowed himself just one – to feel sorry for himself, for the male that was once someone he admired and loved.
For indeed, Eris would take the bloody crown and put an end to it all.
But Eris had barely moved when the High Lord did a double take, his expression shifting. Eris’s eyes narrowed, refusing to take his eyes off his father, not trusting that it wasn’t a trick even as Iris took a sharp breath behind him.
Instead, his father seemed to be staring at a ghost. In one breath, Eris saw the High Lord standing. In the next, his father was now on his knees, clutching his throat, the air ripped out of his windpipes. A knife was protruding from his right shoulder.
Eris’s shoulders slackened as Lucien appeared out of the flames behind Beron, his hand gripping the handle of said knife with a small smile.
“Quite rude of you to leave me out of yet another family reunion.”
“Lucien.” Eris breathed and spared Iris a glance to see that she’d been released from her hold and shakily trying to stand. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Lucien shot Beron a look full of loathing before turning back to Eris. “No one showed. We knew something was wrong and if I didn’t show up, Helion would’ve come and raised hell.”
Beron finally seemed to snap the leash Lucien had on his throat. “You.” he snarled. “How dare you show your face here.”
“I’m so handsome, it would be a waste if I didn’t,” Lucien said, waving a hand almost mockingly.
“I banned you from –”
Lucien waved his hand again and his magic seemed to be silencing Beron once more. “My father says hello,” he said with a smile that was anything but kind, and Beron’s glare intensified. “And by hello, he means he would love to lodge a spear in your chest.”
“How the fuck are you doing that?” Eris asked, grateful for the momentary pause, rushing over to Iris and slowly helping her stand, trying not to let the paleness of her skin worry him. “How did you even winnow within the walls?”
“I am a Spell-Cleaver, after all. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” Lucien said and this smile was more genuine if not a little smug. “The binding spell won’t hold him for long but it helps that I had the element of surprise.”
“Will you be able to stay and help?” Iris asked breathlessly. “Your mother –”
“I’ve come to help in any way that I can.” Lucien answered. “Helion is waiting to –”
“Lucien. Take Iris and go.” Eris commanded. “Take her out of here and have her healed then find mother.”
“Eris, no –”
“Non-negotiable.” he snapped and at the furrow in her brow, he cupped her face, meeting her gaze. His touch was gentle, to not aggravate the still-healing wounds and Iris’s grip tightened on his arm as she shuddered.
“Eris.”
“Please.” he only whispered and Iris’s expression tightened despite the tremble in her lip but she knew what that word cost him in front of others. She knew she couldn’t argue with him, not as her shaky legs barely held her up.
Eris glanced at Lucien who was still watching the High Lord with that small smug smile. “Lucien. Take Iris to the healer's wing,” he commanded again and reluctantly eased Iris into his brother’s open arms. “Then find Mother.”
Lucien’s gaze hardened as he nodded at Eris then gave Iris a thin smile as he carefully held her. “Ready?”
“No.” she answered honestly and her eyes stayed on Eris who couldn’t look away from his wife, a muscle flexing in his jaw. It would be better this way. Let her be safe. Let her be away when he finally cracked.
But the sound of the High Lord roaring behind him, had the three of them turning and Eris put up a shield that Lucien reinforced as they watched his father pant, yanking the dagger out of his shoulder and tossing it to the side.
“So fucken weak.” Beron spat. “With your words and your feelings. You embarrass yourself in front of me and then wonder why I always tried to beat the softness out of you.”
Eris only lifted a brow at the High Lord’s fury. “Tell me how you really feel, father.”
“You allowed that bastard to set foot in my court.” Beron snarled and Eris schooled his expression into calm.
“He’s a son of Autumn whether you accept him or not,” he said then tilted his head, his tone taunting, watching as his father’s face nearly turned purple in anger, sparing Lucien a glance. “Isn’t it fascinating that he’s now powerful enough to overpower you with a single spell?”
“And I haven’t even started the real fun.” Lucien added, with that smug smile of his.
“Your little party trick won’t save you when I get my hands on you.” Beron promised and Eris couldn’t help the way his body straightened, taking a step in front of Lucien and Iris.
Enough was enough.
“Your hands will hurt us no more.”
Never taking his eyes off his father, Eris let himself take a breath and then opened his hands, allowing him to finally unleash his own party trick. Slowly, his fire began to leak out of him and his father watched with narrowed eyes as full-fledged fire creatures started to form.
His well of magic was something he’d very carefully cultivated and nurtured over the years. He’d had to keep it well hidden but Eris had never shied away from experimenting and testing out his limitations until he settled on a way to keep himself safe at all times.
Inspired by his smokehounds, Eris had played with his magic until he could shapeshift it the way he wanted and now twelve firehounds stood surrounding him. Judging by the sharp intake of breath from both his wife and brother, his firehounds were just as breathtaking as his smokehounds were.
Beron blinked in the silence as he observed the fire creatures then met his son’s gaze again.
“You seem surprised, father.” he said and Eris couldn’t help but find it poetic that despite the sound of carnage around them and his mate still in harm’s way, he was so very calm.
Beron’s lip curled. “Surprised that you’ve resorted to making up cheap tricks to win a fight?”
Eris shook his head with a chuckle and knew as he took another breath, his whole body was now aflame, a hand petting his fire creature next to him as he watched his father, feeling Iris and Lucien take a step back. “Your imagination has always been limited. Despite being a High Lord, you never took the time to figure out how to push the boundaries of your mind and create with your magic. You let yourself get comfortable, despite knowing I grow in power. You let yourself stay like this. You knew I’d come for your throne one day and yet, you let yourself rest easy thinking my mother was the only person you had to worry about. Thinking that after what you did to her, she wouldn’t have the courage to fight fire with fire.”
“Your mother is –”
The firehound at his side snarled, taking a step towards the High Lord and Eris’s smile turned deadly. “I suggest you watch your mouth. Your breaths are already so numbered.”
Beron watched his son with calculating eyes then straightened and it seemed the High Lord had finally reached his limit. “As you wish, boy. You want to try and kill me? Let’s make sure your demise has witnesses.”
Unsheathing his sword, the High Lord slammed it into the ground and the hall shook with the force of it. A line of fire burst from his hand down the blade and Eris watched as the wall of flames that had been hiding them from the crowd disappeared and fire spread through the fissures of the floor, Lucien moving Iris out of the way.
He watched and waited as the High Lord took deep breaths, rage emitting from every inch of him but Eris only smiled and addressed his firehounds.
“You know who to kill. Leave no survivors.” Eris muttered, eyes ablaze and his firehounds scattered through the screaming crowds.
“Your fire won’t save you, boy.” the High Lord said and though his tone was quiet, Eris heard him loud and clear. “Nothing will after I run my blade through your chest.”
“Your threats no longer mean anything to me, father. And I’m tired of your words.”
Unsheathing his own blade, Eris ran a hand down at the length of it, his fire coating the blade. Without breaking his father’s gaze, Eris sliced his palm, gripping the blade until the scent of fresh blood filled the air. Slowly, he then raised the blade in front of him and slashed the air twice, two lines of fire appearing in the air before him.
The world seemed to still, the room going silent at the signal. A breath, then another as Beron straightened, holding his sword and gazing at Eris with a look filled with raw hatred. Eris was vaguely aware of Iris’s beating heart, of Lucien ready to pounce, of both Finn and Izak close by, blades out and coming to stand behind him.
“You know what that symbol is announcing, don’t you, boy?”
“I do.” Eris answered quietly. “Your reign of terror is coming to an end, High Lord and I’ve been waiting to challenge it for a long, long time.”
He took a step and lowered his blade, scraping the tip across the floor in front of him, a line of fire bursting before him.
“As a Prince of Autumn, a son of this court, and with the fire running through my veins, I challenge you to a blood duel till death,” he announced, his voice ringing across the hall. “You have dishonored the throne you sit on and its people you were meant to protect. You have dishonored the Lady of this court and your family. Most importantly, you have dishonored and brought harm to my wife, my mate and for that alone, I will have your head.”
Beron only tilted his head, watching his sons stand before him with narrowed eyes before pulling his sword from the ground and slicing his own palm then scraping his blade across the floor, mirroring Eris’s movement and a line of fire appeared before him. “I accept your challenge.” the High Lord replied coldly. “You have chosen death, Eris. I hope your false sense of justice will be worth it.”
Eris spared his wife and brothers one last look, jerking his head for Lucien to leave before meeting his father’s gaze once more. “Feeling my blade pierce your flesh and watching you take your last breath?” Eris murmured. “I’ve been dreaming of it.”
And there were no more words as Eris and Beron each took a step towards each other, the frenzied energy in the room increasing tenfolds, like a rope tightening around each of their windpipes.
Lucien’s grip tightened gently on Iris, and she could only watch in horror as Eris roared, launching himself at his father before he finally winnowed them out.
Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama
Warnings: physical abuse/triggering language.
Author’s Note: In case you missed it, I commissioned an art of Iris here! Thank you for reading, we're gearing up for the end soon!!!
thank you @riorsonxaden for always being my cheerleader <3
Iris jolted awake, blinking groggily with a groan. There was a slight throbbing in her head and her arms were aching but when she tried to move them, she was met with resistance. She shifted with a wince, her eyes still fighting against the blur, trying to figure out where she was, trying to remember what had happened. The last thing she could recall was – was her father.
She took a deep startled breath as the room finally became clear and Iris had no idea where she was. She didn’t think she’d ever passed this particular room and wondered where the fuck her father had taken her. But most importantly what had happened to Emil? To Lady Enya?
What was happening with Eris?
Her heart felt tight in her chest but Iris needed to remind herself to take another deep breath and assess her situation. Straining her neck to glance up, she found the source of resistance was rope, tying her arms together with her dagger lodged right in the knot.
And she wasn’t just tied up anywhere.
It was a flogging pole.
A flogging pole.
Her breathing quickened and Iris forced herself to swallow, to remain calm. Was this the same one Eris had suffered on? She wouldn’t put it past her father and the High Lord to make a sick twisted joke out of this and she didn’t want to let herself think exactly what would be happening to her soon.
Her bottom lip trembled but Iris made herself glance around the room and was startled when she found two other bodies there with her – a male and a female.
The male was chained to the wall, breathing heavily and Iris noted the bruises along his arms, his tunic nearly shredded with all the beatings he seemed to have gotten. The female’s arms were tied in front of her and she was blindfolded, small cuts peppering her face and neck, her body trembling as Iris noted the disheveled appearance of her simple gown slightly, dark auburn hair messily unbound. She hadn't seen the girl before but the male was familiar.
Licking her lips and attempting to pull her arms again, Iris cleared her throat. The male’s head immediately shot up, glaring but his gaze softened when he saw Iris and she recognized the beautiful blacksmith immediately.
“Theo!”
“My lady.” he answered wearily.
“W-what happened to you? How did you get here?”
The blacksmith gave her a thin smile. “We’ve been betrayed. The High Lord knew when I was departing and I was ambushed,” he explained and tilted his head towards the girl. “This is Cosette. It seems they did the same with her.”
Iris’s expression softened, her hands tightening into fists above her head as Cosette seemed to tilt her head towards Theo.
“You – you must be Iris,” Cosette said softly and Iris noted the thickness of her voice, the careful enunciation, and remembered her father’s taunt about removing her aide. She wondered how well she could hear Iris.
“I am.” she answered and Cosette’s trembling hands twitched. “My father – I’m sorry for whatever he has done. I - I’m unsure how well you can hear me I know he took your –”
“You’re speaking too f-fast.” Cosette interrupted. “I can hear you better if you speak slowly.”
“I apologize.” Iris said and licked her lips. “I’m so sorry for whatever my father has done.”
Both Cosette and Theo shook their heads.
“It’s not your fault, my lady.” Theo said quickly. “Whatever will happen, it is on the High Lord and no one else.”
“Did they say anything about what they’re planning?”
But even as Iris asked the question, she already knew the answer. If the High Lord was aware of the coup, he would be using the three of them to hurt the brothers. He would be using them as an example and dread curled in Iris’s stomach at how the situation seemed to go from bad to worse.
The blacksmith’s throat bobbed, glancing at Cosette for a moment before he answered, his expression tight. “Knowing what I know about this family, it won’t be a pleasant experience.”
Iris felt herself blanch and yanked at the ropes tying her arms again with a grunt. “We can’t stay here, like sitting ducks.” she said. “Where is Helene? Is she –”
“No. She’s the only one I didn’t see.” Theo answered.
Relief washed over Iris but it was short-lived as Cosette shifted and said, “They couldn’t find her but they have Lord Marcus. They – they will hurt him instead.”
“How do you know?” Iris asked quickly.
“How do I know, is what you asked, yes?” Cosette asked then licked her lips. “They – they assumed without my aide I couldn’t hear at all and spoke freely.”
“Do we know if any of these guards are linked to the brothers?”
Theo shook his head. “They’re all loyalists to the High Lord.” he said and gave her a tight smile. “Provided by your father.”
Iris tried not to let herself deflate. Things had turned so quickly. She couldn’t even imagine what Eris was thinking. If the knots in her stomach were any indication, he was as anxious as she was. She hoped it wasn’t anything worse. She prayed it wouldn't be anything worse.
Iris allowed herself a moment to process the dire situation. The weight of it all pressed down on her but keeping in mind everything Eris had prepared her for, she couldn’t let herself succumb to despair. They needed a plan and they needed it now.
Flexing her aching hands, Iris brushed her fingers against the dagger. Then she paused, glancing at Theo. “If I can get my hands on the dagger, I can try to cut my rope and free Cosette,” she said carefully so Emil’s lover understood her. Will my dagger be able to unlock your shackles?”
“I made it. Of course it will.” he said and Iris appreciated the confidence in his skill; he was a male proud of his work.
Her nod was a grateful one. “Will you both be able to move once I get us out?”
Cosette nodded and Theo gave Iris a grim smile. “I’m a little beat up but I’ll do my best.”
“I can heal you before we leave. Can you guide me to cut the rope, please? I can’t see what I’m doing without hurting my neck.”
Theo nodded and with newfound determination, Iris stretched her hands, grasping at the edge of her dagger’s hilt. She yanked as hard as she could and let out a breath of relief when it was freed and slowly worked the rope with Theo’s guidance until she felt it loosen.
Iris slipped a hand out and then turned to free her other hand more easily, her blood pumping in her ears, trying to work as fast as she could. Her father and his grunts could be back any moment. She had to get out. She had to help the others get to safety.
She had to get back to Eris.
With a growl, Iris yanked her hand free and the dagger fell to the floor with a clang as she rubbed her sore wrists now marred with red. She allowed herself one breath of relief but didn’t waste additional time. Quickly getting up, she picked up her dagger as she went and moved to Cosette first, removing the blindfold gently, and giving the girl a tight smile as she cut through her ropes. Emil’s lover was truly a lovely thing; big chocolate brown eyes and freckles scattered across her soft face.
“I wish we were meeting under better circumstances,” Iris said gently and Cosette returned the smile timidly. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Thank you, I’m alright.” she replied, rubbing her wrists and Iris turned with her as Cosette’s eyes glanced at Theo. “Theo got the brunt of it – help him.”
Nodding, Iris moved to Theo, and using her dagger, she attempted to pick the locks on the chains as best as she could. Struggling more than she would like, Iris’s pulse began to quicken again, and that sense of anxiousness that hadn’t left her since the day began rose in her throat.
“I can’t —” she whispered and hated the slight panic in her tone. “I’m trying but I can’t –”
“Let me help you,” Theo said gently and Iris met his gaze. “We’re going to get out together. Let me guide you.”
Iris’s lip trembled just slightly before she inhaled and nodded, following Theo’s instructions on how to unlock it. Her hands had started to shake and a pounding had started in her head but after a few tense moments and a grunt later, she jimmied the lock of the chains and it finally landed on the floor with a clang.
Theo stumbled into Iris and she caught him, leaning against the wall for support.
“I’m sorry.” he mumbled. “I can’t quite feel my arms yet.”
“It’s alright, let’s see what I can do.” She reassured him and assisted him to slide down to the floor, running her hands over him, looking for the hurt, grimacing. “You have bruised ribs and some nasty cuts all over. Surprisingly your hands are alright.”
“Who do you think they get their swords from? They don’t want to risk losing the talent,” he said with a tired snort. Iris chuckled and glanced up, feeling Cosette near them.
She held up what looked like a small device with a thin smile and adjusted it in her ear. “I found one of my earpieces. The other was crushed.”
Iris grimaced again then sighed. “I’m sorry.” she said turning to continue slowly working on Theo until his breathing became more stable and he wasn’t wincing.
Cosette gently touched Iris’s shoulder and when she turned to glance up at her, her expression was firm. “Do not apologize for other people’s behavior. You are here because of them too.”
Iris swallowed, her hands stilling for a moment as she remembered Eris’s similar request many moons ago. Where a lack of apology to her father had Eris tied to the flogging pole she had been on moments ago. Her resolve sharpened and she squared her shoulders, meeting Cosette’s gaze. “You’re right. Let’s focus on getting out of here.”
Cosette nodded and lowered herself to support Theo as Iris worked on whatever bruises she could find, even as she felt herself depleting. She’d already used so much earlier and was starting to feel tired more quickly but gods damn it will she carry on. The true fight hadn’t even begun.
“Did you happen to hear them discussing anything else, Cosette?” Iris asked and the girl tilted her head as she shifted, holding Theo. “Any idea who might’ve betrayed us?”
“I didn’t hear all of it but…I think they tortured it out of someone,” she said quietly and Iris felt her chest tighten.
There was a small number of people who knew the exact plans they had in place and Iris had a feeling whoever it was had seen a glimpse of what the High Lord would be offering them if they didn’t manage to get out of here.
Sitting back and breathing deeply as her hands fell to her lap, Iris observed Theo and was pleased to see him stabilize. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” he said, gingerly moving his arms. “Thank you. I didn’t realize you were a healer.”
“In training,” she said with a small smile. “Though the training timeline has been expedited today.”
Theo’s face shuttered. “Finn?” he whispered and Iris shook her head and glanced at Cosette.
“Emil and Lady Enya. Oren as well.” she explained and Cosette’s face immediately paled. “But I healed them all. He’s alright.”
“W-what did the High Lord do to him?” she asked and Iris shook her head.
“It’s best not to dwell on it. Let me heal those cuts you have and we’ll get out of here.” Iris had barely brushed a hand across Cosette’s face when a long-suffering sigh had Iris whirling towards the door and her stomach caved in.
“You will never learn, will you.”
Once again, her father had found her at the most inconvenient of times and the tension in the room rose tenfold as she shifted in front of Cosette, quickly grabbing her dagger off the floor. Theo had stood slightly in front of her but Iris put her arm out in front of him, the other in front of Cosette.
“Let us walk out and we don’t have to let this escalate,” she said calmly and her father shook his head, irritation coming off him in waves.
“I am so sick of you making everything so fucken difficult.”
“I’m as sick of you as you are of me.” Iris snapped. “You already lost once against me. I have no qualms knocking you out again.”
His expression darkened, and Iris felt her pulse quicken. She had tested all her limits with her father today and had no doubt he was only holding back for a bigger reason.
“You can try, daughter. But I’m afraid this time, you’re outnumbered.”
The smirk on her father’s face had Iris’s heart drop as about ten guards filled the room and Iris’s throat bobbed.
Aron walked slowly toward her, smiling darkly. “This can go two ways,” he said, glancing at the three of them. “You three can cooperate, and we can move on to the next phase.”
“Or?” Iris asked but Theo straightened, his expression flat.
“The next phase of what?” the blacksmith demanded and Aron spared Theo one glance before returning his gaze to Iris.
“You three will get another taste of pain and still move on to the next phase. And remember,” Aron explained with that same dark smile. “I can do whatever I want. Choose wisely.”
Iris considered his request. Here he was, cornering her like a mouse again but this time, she wasn’t alone at the end of his fists. She had barely healed Theo and though he was a solid force next to her, Iris worried he’d strain himself again. Cosette’s fist was tightened in the folds of Iris’s dress even as she stood tall behind her but given how disheveled she had been when Iris had awoken, she didn’t want to risk any additional wrath on the girl.
This was her father’s doing at her father-in-law’s request. How could she ever consider herself a princess to this court if she couldn’t protect its people? If she couldn’t protect those important to her family?
Iris steeled herself, squaring her shoulders, and met her father’s gaze head-on. “Let them leave unharmed and I’ll do whatever it is you want from me,” she said. Theo and Cosette’s objections were immediate but Iris gently held up a hand and it warmed her heart that it caused them to listen. She spared each of them a glance before returning to face her father. “We both know who the High Lord wishes to punish the most and it’s the same person you’ve always delighted in beating down. I will take whatever punishment was meant for Theo and Cosette alongside my own but let them leave.”
Her father watched him quietly for a moment, then snorted. Iris felt his scorn heat her skin, but this time, she would not let it get to her. She only held her head high.
Iris had gotten one on him earlier. She had beaten him in the hall. Whatever happened next, Iris would always be proud of herself for standing up to him in the only way she knew how.
“Tempting as that offer may be, I’m afraid that isn’t an option. The High Lord requested all four of you and so, I do as the High Lord asks.” Aron said with a nasty smile.
“Four?” Cosette asked quietly and Aron’s gaze was predatory enough on the girl that Iris shifted just slightly to glare at her father.
“Yes. Four,” he replied, jerking his head to the doorway where a body hung between two other guards, barely recognizable. “We couldn’t find his daughter but I suppose he will do.”
“Lord Marcus.” Theo breathed and again, Iris felt the world slide from beneath her feet.
One target for each brother.
The High Lord knew everything.
“Did you really think you could bargain your way out of this? That I would listen to you?” her father sneered and Iris couldn’t take her eyes off Helene’s father, bloodied and bruised almost beyond recognition. A male who had served in this court for years now dragged to be humiliated. “Your little act here will cost you and I suggest you don’t fight it.”
“Wait –” Iris breathed but her father held up a hand.
“Rough them up and get my daughter on her knees tied to the flogging pole.”
Chaos erupted once more around Iris as guards grabbed each other and Iris watched in horror as three began pummeling Theo and a different guard grabbed Cosette by the hair while another began sliding his hands over her body.
“Stop. Stop this madness.” Iris demanded, her dagger swinging, dodging a guard as she tried to reach her father. Both Theo and Cosette were resisting, fighting back as hard as they could but Iris felt Theo’s strength waver as he went down on his knees, felt Cosette’s panic when the guard tore at the front of her dress and every inch of her was seething in hot anger. The sound of Cosette’s sob had Iris turning and with all her might, she flung her dagger to land into the back of the soldier who had been touching her, watching with satisfaction as he dropped. “Keep your filthy fucken hands off of them. Stop this now.”
Her father held up a hand and the room stilled as Iris panted, glaring at the male who had sired her. “The more you resist, the farther the hurt will go,” he warned and Iris hated the menace in his tone and how it made her bottom lip tremble. Her gaze drifted to Theo on his knees, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and his temple, panting heavily. She looked at Cosette, being held against a guard holding her arms back, the tear in the front of her dress exposing the bruises peppering her skin and cleavage.
And Iris could tell these soldiers were hungry. For blood. For pain. It would get worse if she tried to fight.
What good would it do them if she lived, knowing the two of them had been tortured because of her choice? How would she face Emil and Finn ever again? How would she live with herself?
Iris felt her shoulders slump. She would cave to her father’s demands if only to spare them from worse.
“Fine.” she conceded with a swallow. “I won’t resist your punishment but you will not hurt them anymore. You will not touch them.”
“Will you take their lashings then?” Aron asked with a smile and Iris felt her chest tighten. Her father had certainly beaten her in the past. He’d broken a few bones here and there, but she’d never gotten lashings before.
She thought of Eris. Her husband who had dealt with that time and time again. Whose skin was permanently marred with it. Her throat bobbed before she answered, “Yes.”
“Ten lashes to start per person and there are three others besides yourself.” Her father explained with a delighted gleam. “Do you think you could handle forty lashings, daughter? Your skin is so soft.”
Iris felt her hands begin to tremble and she fisted them at her sides. “That seems excessive.”
“If you can’t handle it, I’m happy to let each of your friends taste their own.”
“No.” she immediately said. “I will take it. Do not harm them.”
“Iris, wait –” Theo began, then groaned when a soldier kneed him in the stomach.
“Iris, please don’t –” Cosette was cut off with a startled noise as the soldier holding her covered her mouth.
“Do not harm them.” she snarled at the guards then turned back to her father. “I will never stop fighting you and I will claw my way out of whatever hole you try to shove me in. Know that I will never stop and when Eris gets his hands on you, I will not stop him this time. I will let him tear you apart limb from limb and you will have no mercy. Do – not – harm – them.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed and a fleeting moment of satisfaction coursed through Iris at the slight dim in his confidence. His expression shifted into distaste as he waved to his guards.
“Tie her up and straighten the other three. They are to be in chains for all to see.”
Iris didn’t wait for her father’s sentries to touch her but pushed past them to stop by the flogging pole. She could have fought back and a part of her wondered if maybe she should have. But for how long could she have resisted before things got uglier?
Maybe her father had cornered her, thinking Iris was as helpless as she had been under his thumb but Aron couldn’t be more wrong. She was being backed into a corner but it was for a family that was now hers. She was fighting not just for herself but for people who shared her fate in loving a Vanserra – who knew exactly the kind of life you had to lead tied to this family.
Eris needed a partner who would withstand the tide with him and Iris would take the brunt of it all if only to ease their burden.
So she stood her ground, waiting until Theo and Cosette were given the chance to stand properly, and as the two gave her pleading looks Iris shook her head; she would do what it takes to keep them safe. Once in the ballroom, they had a chance. The brothers would be there. Eris would be there and it was of her husband she thought of when her father stepped in front of her and backhanded her hard enough that she stumbled back. It was Eris’s name that replayed in her mind when her father’s fists collided with her ribs and she sank to her knees.
It was only of Eris she thought of when she was tied to the same place that haunted him and his mother. Only her husband, her mate when her father slammed her face into the pole and ripped the back of her dress to expose more of her skin.
Iris’s lips trembled, her eyes welling up with unshed tears as she forced herself to take a breath, glaring at her father with as much of her anger as she could muster. She would not give him any more of her tears. Any more satisfaction.
The first crack of the whip against Iris’s skin was a violent one and if she could, she would’ve doubled over, a gasp of pain escaping her lips. But hearing the chuckle escape from her father’s lips only made the dread grow worse as the second lashing slammed into her and she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
She was almost too thankful when black began to cloud her vision but tried to hold on with a small groan as the third lash burnt her skin. Pain like nothing she had ever experienced before seared her body and she forced herself to take a deep breath, even as she blinked back the well of tears. She would not give him any more of her tears.
The thought was short-lived; Iris cried out as her father yanked her head back and dug his other hand into her fresh lashings. “This was only a teaser as it will only get so much worse from here. I can’t wait to see the look on Eris’s face when I make you bleed in front of him.” Her father leaned next to her ear and whispered with glee. “The High Lord has granted me the privilege of winnowing within the walls. I hope you’re prepared to make a bloody entrance.”
–
Eris remained in front of his father, trying to control his breathing. The High Lord had allowed him to stand once more but he was still barely able to shift his feet. His eyes shifted around the room trying to find his brothers, trying to sense if something was amiss. He did notice the guards that didn’t bore his mark or the marks of his brothers scattered about the room but when he looked to the positions of where his arrows should be in place, Eris could see that many remained.
But not as many as there were before.
Acid clogged his throat and he looked at his father.
“Father. Whatever it is you think is happening, let us discuss –”
Beron’s magic lashed out and Eris made a choking sound as it wrapped around his throat. “What is it you think I know, boy?”
“I’m asking you.” Eris wheezed. “Let us discuss. See reason and release me.”
The High Lord hummed, tilting his head. “But I like you powerless. You grew too big for your britches, son.”
Eris fought back his snarl. “Father –”
Beron's gaze bore into Eris, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Do not snarl at me like an animal. You were raised to be more refined than that.”
Eris forced himself to close his eyes and leash his magic tightly; he had to wait for whatever this surprise show his father had in mind. He couldn’t waste it, even as it nearly burst out of him. “Father.” he tried again, clearing his throat. “Please, let us speak calmly. It is meant to be a joyous night after all.”
His father watched him for a heartbeat and then gave him a smile that made his throat tighten. “A joyous night indeed.” the High Lord said and glanced at the glass in his hand. “That was the intention. At least…that was my initial intention. Until of course, I found out you had other plans for this evening.”
Eris’s mouth went dry but he forced his tone to remain steady, to remain feigning ignorance. “I’m unsure what you mean.”
His father's piercing gaze swept over him, lingering with disdain. “Insisting on this little charade, are you?”
Eris carefully locked his eyes on his father’s and said, “You’re the one speaking in riddles, Father.”
“Am I? Or are you the one who continues to hold out on me, son?” Beron mused. “Am I to misunderstand what I’ve learned about you and your extracurricular activities?”
Eris attempted his usual bravado and raised a brow. “You’ll have to be more specific, father. You and I both know that I’m a very busy male.”
It fell silent between them and the sound of the ball behind them raging on was a mockery to his nerves. Eris said nothing as his father watched him, the only sign of the High Lord’s patience running thin was the tightening of his hand on his glass.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Eris.” his father finally growled. “I know what you and your brothers have been up to. Your foolish attempts to undermine me tonight.”
Eris said nothing but could only wonder how. How had his father found out? Who had betrayed them?
He made himself straightened and only said, “There seems to be a misunderstanding here. You know that I am always loyal to our family and this court.”
“Loyal.” The High Lord said the word slowly as if savoring it then hummed, sending a shiver down Eris’s spine. “I suppose it is my own fault for forgetting how good of a liar you are when you lie the way you breathe.”
Eris clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his emotions in check, and held his head high. “You call me a liar when I am what you made me, High Lord,” he said lowly. “I’ve only ever served our family faithfully and if that is considered a lie to you, then so be it.”
And Eris watched as his father’s gaze slowly morphed into hatred. His father had looked at him with anger and annoyance. Disappointment. Exasperation. Long, long ago, he had once looked at him with pride. Eris could even remember joy as a babe. Maybe a whisper of love.
But the hatred in his father’s eyes now? It burned worse than any lashing of a whip.
“Years, I spent on you…I trained you. I gave you the best opportunities. Placed a court at your fingertips and the first moment you get…you plot to betray me. My crown prince. My favorite son. My glory.” Eris’s breath stuttered in his chest as his father’s gaze pierced into him. “You repay me by thinking of bringing death to my doorstep.”
The High Lord slowly stood, the glass in his hand vanishing as he took a step towards Eris, clasping his hands behind his back. “I admit, it took me some time to sense something amiss,” Beron said quietly. “You’ve served me so well over the years that if I started to question your loyalty, how could I trust anyone else?”
He wondered if his father could hear the pounding in his head, could sense the fire rising in his throat. Eris didn’t let himself fidget as the High Lord stood so near and opted for an aloof response. “I assure you, Father, I have never taken your trust for granted.”
“And yet, you break it so easily,” Beron whispered, baring his teeth. “You think to play me for a fool and keep lying.”
Eris braced himself for the blow as his father backhanded him hard enough, he tasted blood. He didn’t hold back his glare as he faced Beron watching him with distaste.
“Do you remember when you and I first came to an understanding about your wife?” he asked quietly and Eris felt his chest tighten, his gaze narrowing. “What did I say to you?”
“I don’t see how –”
“I said – it would be a shame if I had to find out where your true loyalties lie and who you valued more.” Beron snapped, then straightened coolly. “It certainly doesn’t seem to be me.” His father tilted his head, watching his son. “So if you had to choose, who would it be? Your mother? Your wife? Or those stupid hounds you’re attached to like a child?”
Bile rose in Eris’s throat. Did this mean his mother and Iris were in his clutches? His hounds were locked in their kennel with their guards but if he was bringing them up now – did that mean he had targeted them too? Forcing himself to swallow and muster a sense of calm despite the blind rage threatening to consume him, Eris choked out, “Tell me where they are –”
“You do not get to make demands of me, boy.” Beron snarled. “Not when you’ve betrayed me in a way no one has ever dared. Not when you stand in front of me and dare to challenge me.” His father straightened as Eris’s breath turned shallow.
The weight of the situation pressed down on him like a vice, squeezing the breath from his lungs. Did it even matter anymore if he confessed now? His mind raced to come up with a way out without giving anything away – without setting himself up for worse. But how much worse could it get now? His father had his mother and Iris.
His worst nightmare was coming to life – his father had his mate in his clutches and the thought gnawed at him, a relentless spiral of anxiety tightening its grip with each passing breath.
Eris felt fissures spread throughout his body, his wretched heart pounding so loudly he felt it in his throat. He was already spread so thin, it would take little for him to explode.
His father had backed him into a corner, exploiting all those fucken feelings he always buried deep, taunting him with the people he’d been stupid enough to care about – just as Eris had always worried would happen.
This was all his fault.
He should’ve been smarter about it. He should’ve been more careful.
He should’ve carried all the weight on his own and maybe some of them would make it.
Beron seemed to know where his son’s thought process had gone and his answering smile was chilling. “Are you wondering if someone betrayed your trust like you betrayed mine?” he asked and Eris’s jaw clenched. “How your master plan unraveled?” Smiling, his father leaned in closer. “It was your lapdog, Mikel.” The High Lord said and Eris had to fight to keep his expression from shifting.
Mikel. His longtime friend. One of his most loyal soldiers. It couldn’t be.
His father gave him a knowing look. “You do know how to pick good soldiers, I will give you that. Despite the agony I put him through, he didn’t break. He held and was smart enough to hide his husband.” Beron mocked. “But his other family members were fair game.”
Eris couldn’t stop his expression from dropping. “What did you do?” he whispered.
“Here’s a little surprise for you, traitor son of mine,” Beorn said with that nasty smile of his, reading Eris’s expression. “I managed to find a daemati to keep at my disposal. I acquired him recently and am still breaking him in but he has already helped me tremendously.” His father’s smile turned deadly. “An excellent addition to my assets, no?”
A breath stuttered out of him at the mixed feelings of relief and rage.
It hadn’t been a betrayal. His father had tortured it out of him. Took pride in torturing his friend because he knew that Mikel was close to Eris. Because despite how unimportant he pretended everyone around him was, his father still knew where to strike. And the High Lord struck to kill.
“Is Mikel alive?” he asked and his voice was hoarse as every worry, every single concern he’d had about this plan surfaced. So many people were going to get hurt. So many lives were on the line.
And it was all his fault.
“I left him hanging in the dungeons to reflect on his loyalty falling in the wrong place.” His father said with a snort and Eris stiffened. “You did train him well to block his mind but as you know, I do enjoy breaking things.” His father took a step closer to him and Eris did all he could not to react, even as the High Lord’s gaze burned into him. “It seems he isn’t the only one whose loyalty lies in the wrong place,” Beron said quietly.
How much of the plan did his father know then? How much had Mikel given away?
His father’s chuckle sent a chill down his spine and Eris tried to hide the shaking in his hands as The High Lord began to pace around him, watching his every breath.
“So. Care to stop lying or should I begin my fun early?” Beron taunted and Eris’s body began to shake. “Do I let you save your mother? Or…” His father gave him a nasty smile then. “Do I let you save your mate?”
Eris blanched.
The one thing that was his – the one piece of information he wanted to savor. His father knew.
He had severely miscalculated. His planning had meant nothing.
“How do you –”
The High Lord waved a hand and Eris felt his breath tightened as with a wave of his hand, his father shattered the glamour of his hidden scent – the scent of his thread of fate with his wife.
“Did you honestly think you could hide your mating bond from me, boy? And then to think you and your stupid brothers could get away with overpowering me?” Beron hissed and was now even closer to Eris, breathing in his personal space. “Did you think I wouldn’t sense the shift in the tide happening and question why my wife was behaving differently? Why my sons seem to suddenly be closer than they ever bothered before? Why you keep a shield around you at all times?” Beron’s scowl was deep as he glared at Eris. “You hid your footsteps well but not enough. You think you can play your games and tiptoe around my throne trying to steal it from me and I would simply kneel over for you? Let my wife leave me? Let you take it?” His father’s hand wrapped around Eris’s throat and Beron yanked him closer. “I am your High Lord. I took this crown by blood and the only way I would abandon it is by blood. If you will not bend to me, you will cease to be useful and I will break each and every one of you until you are all set straight.”
Roaring filled his ears as his father shoved him back and Eris stared at him.
It had all come down to this then.
His mind raced as his options narrowed to a suffocating point. His father held all the cards. He had his wife and his mother and Eris had not been quick or smart enough to get through this. He had spent years tolerating all this agony for his father to still try and take it all away.
If it was all going to end in a fiery nightmare, it was time Eris went out swinging. He would not cower. He would not let this moment pass him.
Steeling himself, Eris so very slowly counted to ten, feeling his magic awaken gently, unfurling through his body. Whatever happened next, he would take his father out. The sky would fall and crumble and the world around them would burn but Eris would weather it all so that no more harm came to anyone else.
His family was counting on him and this monster was done haunting them.
His expression settled into stoic indifference. “So it seems we’re at an impasse,” he said and his father lifted a brow, tightening his grip on Eris’s throat.
“So it seems.”
Eris let his magic seep into his fingertips, slowly testing the bounds of his father’s hold on him. If he could crack it, he’d make his move. “What exactly made you begin to question me?”
His father seemed to note the slight change in his demeanor as narrowed his gaze on him. “Your little incident with your father-in-law,” Beron spat. “If you dared to defy me then, what else would you do?”
Eris scoffed. “I have never once been taught to apologize to anyone. I sure as fuck wouldn’t be starting with that piece of filth,” he said tightly. “Your expectations of that situation still baffle me.”
His father hummed and seemed to ignore Eris as he continued, “Then your goings and comings began to increase. You were very good at slithering in the dark unnoticed,” the High Lord said and Eris scowled. “But as you have your loyalists, I have mine.”
Eris shook his head, a humorless laugh slipping from his lips. “You call yourself my father yet you have shown me and this family nothing but pain and suffering and shame.” Eris snarled. “You have never given us a moment of reprieve since under the mountain. You have gone on and on and have made every year worse than the next and yet you wonder why we pulled away? Why we’ve looked for a way out with you?”
“Ah, so you’re admitting to your crimes.”
“I am admitting to the sheer agony that you’ve been putting us through all these years that if you took one moment to self-reflect you’d realize it was you who ruined us.”
The air between them thickened with tension. “You think I ruined this family of traitors?” Beron hissed and Eris let out a choking sound, unable to move out of his father’s grip. “Did I not give you a warm bed? Clothes on your back? Food on your table? Servants to fulfill your every wish?”
“Did you not also give me nightmares that never leave me? Wounds that keep bleeding?” Eris growled and he was almost desperate for his father to see reason – to hear him and know it never had to be this way. “You cannot admit one without the other and everything comes at a price with you. A price my mother has been paying for years. A price you took out on me and my brothers time and time again. You –”
Beron scowled and made a noise of disapproval, cutting him off. “This is exactly your problem. You’ve been too fucken soft for this court.” he sneered and Eris couldn’t help his exasperated eye roll. “I tried to beat that out of you and yet…” Beron heaved an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “You were meant to keep this failure of a family from sinking further – from becoming weak. Little did I realize you would be the one to set the terrible example for the rest of them.”
“Family.” Eris spat and knew his eyes were burning as he glared at his father. “You know nothing of that word or what it means.” His magic flared as it shoved against his father’s. “My mother, my brothers, and I – we are a family. You are nothing but the sickness that ails us. You are the weakness.”
Beron’s expression flickered and Eris didn’t know if it was his words or the fact that his fire had cracked through his father’s magic. But Eris didn’t care – he was past logic, past thought.
“You have never cared about a single thing other than yourself.” he snarled, every syllable trembling with rage. “You’ve let this land fester. You do not get to call me a failure when the reason you still have a court is because of me. I cleaned your messes. I handled all the things you deemed beneath you. I am the reason you still have sons who haven’t deserted you. You can pretend the reality is different all you want but this court has always been mine and it’s about time I took it.”
His father watched him and the look of deep hatred had returned. “And you think you can rule better than I can? Bribe them into kneeling before you?”
“I wouldn’t have to buy people’s loyalty. I’ve earned it.” Eris spat and satisfaction coursed through him at the slight color that seeped into his father’s face, the cracks in his armor showing. “You’ve earned nothing but their resentment and hatred and I’ve tried over the years to help you, to try and make it better but all you did was resist and fuck around while your sons slaved away for you.”
“And what now, you think you will teach me a lesson, boy?” Beron sneered angrily and Eris staggered back as his father’s power slammed into him again, holding him down. “You think you can win against me when you made the stupid mistake of getting attached to people I could use against you?”
“You’d rather I be an empty husk like you?” Eris sneered.
“An empty husk you say?” Beron mused in disgust. “And how does it feel to know that I left your mother and traitor brother soaking in their own blood where no one will bother to look? What about your pretty wife?” Eris groaned under the weight of his father’s fire. “How does it feel to know I would’ve spared her had you yielded but now the least I will do to her is give her matching scars to yours?”
Eris felt his heart give way. He had let his wife walk out of there and right into his father’s schemes. His mate. Where was she now? What had his father done?
He felt that thread at his ribcage but couldn’t tell through his own discomfort what pain was his and what could be hers.
“What did you do?” Eris growled, his voice nearly guttural as his magic surged up again, pushing against the weight of the high lord’s.
“How will you protect them when you’re powerless against me? You, who has always been my greatest asset and my biggest threat.” Beron said softly and Eris felt his chest tighten when his father waved his hand and another glass appeared. “Emil is smart but he let himself get tangled with an enemy and fall in love with his unfit daughter. Finn is a disgrace and Izak has always been stupid but at least now that I know he has a child on the way, I can fix what I couldn’t with you all.” His father’s smug smile made Eris realize he’d let his expression fall. “Oh yes, I know all about that now. The shields around his father-in-law’s mind weren’t as strong as Mikel’s.” The High Lord’s chuckle made Eris want to throw up. “Izak’s wife may have slipped through my fingers but I’ll get to her eventually. After all, I wouldn’t be so cruel to harm a pregnant female.” Beron shrugged slowly. “I’ll keep her alive until she gives birth. If she has a son, she may live. If she has a daughter, I’ll kill them both, and then maybe your brother. We’ll see how I feel by that time.”
Eris stared at him in horror, his magic faltering. “You speak of your family’s death so easily and yet you expect me to believe we ever mattered to you.” he breathed.
“You only matter when you bend the knee. The second you stepped out of line, your punishment was prepared for you and you have given me so much ammunition.” Beron sneered. “I hardly know who to torture you with first but your mate seems like the best choice. I hope you enjoy watching me break her.”
Every inch of Eris burned as his magic flared. “Where the fuck is my wife?”
Beron’s smile was wicked and Eris barely took a breath as the High Lord leaned in close and said, “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough but before that, have a little taste of this, son. I heard you were saving it for me.”
Still locked in by his father’s magic, Eris couldn’t brace himself as his father splashed the glass filled with liquid in his face and he gasped feeling his magic dry out almost immediately.
How’s one to know?
I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones
In a faith-forgotten land
In from the snow
Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow
Tarnished but so grand
-
Eris and Iris.
Son of a high lord. Daughter of a fiend.
An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the fight, the two are more alike than they’d like to be. Follow Eris and Iris as they navigate a relationship that neither of them asked for, the politics that dictate so much of their lives, and what happens when feelings start to find their way between them. / Tropes to expect: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, dislike to love, slow burn. / Read on AO3
Eris x Iris inspiration | SMTB inspiration | Iris | playlists | Art | Asks | Headcanons | Family List | Vanserra Brothers
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
~
Eiris Prompt - Iris on her cycle.
Snippets
Drawing Up the Plans - Eiris Valentine’s Day Modern AU
Iris tried to focus on her steps as she walked away from the one person who mattered more than anyone else. Tried to keep breathing, knowing anything could happen to him.
She could sense Eris’s every emotion trickling through the bond as she stepped out of the ballroom and walked quickly down the hall. His panic became hers and as she ran a finger against her necklace in comfort, Iris knew better than to look back. If she did, she wouldn’t resist running back to him and he needed her away for his own sanity.
With every step she moved away from him, her mess of a heart thumped how wrong it felt. She loved him. She loved him and should’ve told him anyway. She should’ve stayed —
Iris also realized she should’ve been paying attention when she collided with the one person she wanted to avoid.
“Iris.”
She straightened at the voice of the High Lord and a strong sense of foreboding coiled in her stomach as she took a step back.
Iris gave him a polite bow of her head. “High Lord.”
Beron tilted his head, giving her a sly leer that instantly put her on edge. “You usually say it differently, no?”
She worked not to let her expression shift from a pleasant smile and swallowed, bowing her head again, “How can I help you, my High Lord?”
“Better,” he said and took a closer step to her, his eyes tracing her body in a way he hadn’t openly done so before. He watched her with an almost morbid curiosity and it made Iris tense further. “Have you been enjoying yourself this evening?”
Iris’s jaw clenched but she kept her gaze even. “Yes, of course. It’s been a splendid night,” she answered. “Where is –”
“You’re doing better than I expected. I admit…I underestimated your capabilities.” Beron continued, ignoring her response as his gaze burned into her skin. “I am pleased to see that you can be taught whatever is necessary.”
She couldn’t stop the slow blink at his words and the tone he said them, alarm bells ringing in her ears. Silence stretched between them and Iris knew by the way the corner of his mouth lifted, Beron could hear the rapid beating of her heart. His gaze shifted to her chest as if he could see right through her and suddenly, her mind took her back to the fight she had with Eris many moons ago about his father – about the High Lord’s particular interest in females. Eris didn’t believe his father would cross that one line to force himself on the females he wanted but…with the way the High Lord was looking at her now, Iris wasn’t as confident. Hating the way his gaze made her feel so dirty, she casually lifted a hand to rest it over the slight dip in the front of her dress, cold dread slinking down her spine.
“I’m…relieved to know it was to your standard,” she said carefully. “But where is –”
The High Lord took another step towards her and Iris couldn’t stop her eyes from widening as he infringed on her personal space. She noticed too late how quiet the hallway was – how alone they were. How Oren, who was meant to be waiting for her, was nowhere in sight. “Where are you off to, without your husband?”
Cautiously, Iris backed another step with a tight smile. “I wanted to refresh before we continued with the dancing,” she said. “Where’s Mother?”
Beron’s face darkened and his demand was nearly a growl, “Stop calling her that. Do not concern yourself with her.”
She blinked, her brows furrowing slightly and her free hand tightened in the folds of her dress. “As you wish…may I be on my way now?”
Instead of answering, the High Lord took another step closer, backing Iris against the wall and her eyes quickly darted to the empty hall they stood in again. Why was it so empty? And so quiet? Where the hell were all the people?
“My lord –”
“My eldest son had always been my favorite of the children I sired. The most reliable. The one who followed orders.” he began. “Yet, since you appeared, he has challenged me more and more as the days go on. He’s become quite a nuisance.” Beron’s mouth curled in distaste as he watched her. “Every single one of them has become a nuisance but Eris…he has disappointed me the most. And I do believe it is all because of you.”
Iris flushed and beneath the prickling anxiety at being cornered like this, anger pulsed under her skin. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, High Lord.”
Beron snorted. “Do not pretend to misunderstand what I mean, Iris.”
They said nothing for a moment and Iris knew she had to tread carefully. Eris had suspected his father might be aware of something but she didn’t want to be the one to jeopardize anything else.
“I think you are giving me too much credit, my lord.” she finally said. “Eris is a male of his own mind and has always…admired you. Strived to please you.”
His brow ticked up at her words and Iris had to swallow as he leaned in closer to her. “And you, Iris? Do you strive to please me?”
Revulsion clogged her throat at the quiet, sinister tone he used and his choice of words. Iris knew he always toed this line with her, doing anything to piss Eris off. But this time…it felt different, more dangerous.
This time, Iris wasn’t sure the High Lord wouldn’t act.
“I –”
“You and I haven’t gotten to know each other very well. I think that will be changing soon,” he said and Iris felt her stomach drop as he watched her with cruel amusement. “My son will not like it but I’ve let him slide without a more lasting punishment and he seems to be pushing his limit today. You will fit exactly what I have in mind for him.”
Her face flushed deeply and Iris could do nothing to stop the disgust in her expression, that rage simmering beneath her skin. Did she dare pull out her dagger? Would she be fast enough? “W-what are you —”
Beron chuckled and Iris flinched back when he raised a hand to grip her face tightly. “In all honesty, you weren’t of any interest to me before,” he said, his voice as soft as a lover and Iris tried not to gag at how close his mouth was to hers. “My son and I had an understanding about you but the way he keeps you from me and hides you away…piqued my interest. I think it’ll be a very fitting punishment indeed for him to watch as I teach you all the things that do please me. He can watch you break until it shatters him.” That cruel amusement returned as he added, “And then I will slit his throat.”
The world slid out from beneath her feet and rage like none other scorched her skin. “How dare you –”
His grip tightened painfully on her chin and she hated the smile he gave her at the whimper that slipped from her lips. “You are aware your father offered you to me first, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone sharpening. “Your circumstances and level of comfort are rapidly changing and given how the rest of this evening will unfold, I suggest you watch your tone. Your husband will no longer be your shield.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she breathed and a twisted smile curled on the High Lord’s face.
“Do you think I’m unaware that my sons are trying to stage a coup? That my wife is a part of it?” he said, his voice low and Iris felt her lungs collapse. “They planned and planned and it will all collapse on their heads.”
Iris worked her throat, panic slowly unfurling in her chest as she thought about her next steps. This couldn’t be happening. “I don’t think –”
She yelped as the High Lord gripped her by the throat and slammed her body into the wall. “Do not even think to lie to me.” he hissed. “I know they will try to humiliate me tonight but I’ll be damned if I let them after everything I’ve done to get here.” His hold tightened and Iris wheezed as her nails dug into his hand. “You will get your share of the punishment as well but I promised your father he would get his turn first.”
Her father. Of course, that fucker was in on it. He must’ve come to them earlier on purpose, to rile her and Eris before disappearing.
What if she pulled her dagger out now? Would she be able to gut him and run to find Eris? Her free hand twitched in the folds of her dress for the hidden pocket but the High Lord grabbed her wrist and pinned her arm to the wall, pressing his body against her.
Iris couldn’t breathe and she wondered if Eris could sense her panic – her fear. It was the last thing she wanted. She didn’t want Eris anywhere near his father right now and she tried to move but all it did was push her body against Beron’s even further. He smiled at her in a way that said he liked it too much.
“You must have lost your mind. Let go of me.” she hissed, clawing at his hands but Beron only smirked, tightening his grip even further.
“Do not give me orders, girl. Once I’m finished cleaning out the traitors, you will have the honor of being the first trained in the new ways,” he promised darkly. “I certainly don’t need four sons and can always find a new wife.” Much to her dismay, Beron leaned close to her ear and breathed, “I do have plans to keep you in the family, Iris. You and I can play then whichever of my sons survives…I’ll let him play with you too.” She froze, her breath stuttering as the High Lord pulled back and Iris looked at him with wide eyes, overcome with horror. “And do not worry, I’ll kill Eris after he has the privilege of watching his mate be used.”
Iris’s head emptied and she felt her body go slack against him. He knew. The bastard knew about their bond and Eris had been right – his father was going to make everything so much worse.
She stared at him in repulsion and disbelief and so much anger boiled in her blood that she began to shake. How long would males like her father and Beron think to use her like bait? To keep finding ways to hurt her husband, the only male she’d ever loved? “You are a deranged bastard.” she seethed. “How dare you say these kinds of things? How dare you spit on something so sacred and try to twist it?”
Beron’s smile was one of her worst nightmares. “Soon enough, I will spit wherever I’d like.” he nearly purred and Iris fought back the urge to gag. “This isn’t the first time I’ve ruined someone’s mate. I will certainly enjoy ruining you as well.”
“You’re a fucken pig. Let - me - go.” Iris hissed and thrashed in his arms. “Eris will –” But Beron’s face darkened at the mention of his son, squeezing her throat tighter.
And fight as she might, he was a High Lord — a vile, vicious High Lord that abused his powers in the worst ways and he would not let Iris break out of his grasp unless he allowed it.
He observed her for a moment, his mouth curling. “I do like your fighting spirit. We’ll see how long it’ll last when I’m done with you.” he mused then shoved her to the side hard enough, Iris stumbled and fell as she finally took a deep breath. “I plan to see how fast you can run, little gazelle.”
Iris blinked in shock, trying to breathe as she watched him casually making his way back to the ballroom – as if he hadn’t just stated his despicable plans to ruin everyone’s lives. Eris and his brothers had plans in place but the High Lord seemed to be ten steps ahead. How did he know? Who had betrayed them?
Iris rubbed her raw neck, noticing too late that her necklace had broken, and pulled her hand back, cradling it sadly. She tried not to take it as a bad omen as she shakily stood, torn in her next decision.
She would not think about the High Lord’s threats, shuddering through the ghost of his touch and gazing around the empty hall again. It was empty for a reason and she struggled to understand why Beron had let her go.
Did she run back and warn Eris? Would it be walking right into Beron’s trap and making it all worse?
Iris steeled herself, tucking the necklace into the pocket of her dress with shaky hands and finally pulling out her dagger. She would go back to Eris but not without some kind of support – Iris would be a help and not a hindrance. She would find Oren and hopefully, her mother-in-law. As upset as her husband might be that Iris was still here, she’d be damned if she left him now.
Tightening her grip on her dagger, Iris carefully continued down the hall, wary of every sound she made. The emptiness of it was deliberate and as she took a few more steps, she felt her healer magic almost tugging her along. Iris did all she could not to run – not to draw attention to herself because the lack of people in this hall was not a good thing. She walked as casually as she could until Iris turned the hall and her body lurched as she came to a stop, her heart leaping into her throat.
“And where do you think you’re running off to, daughter?”
Iris swallowed and her grip tightened even further on her dagger, observing as her father stood in the hall, alone. As if he’d been waiting for her. “What are you doing here?” she asked as calmly as she could.
His smile made every inch of her tense. Running into the High Lord and then finding the male she hated most waiting for her was not a coincidence.
In trying to avoid Beron’s trap of going back to Eris, Iris had walked right into another and it suddenly made sense why the High Lord had let her walk away.
“I’m here to escort you to your next stop.” her father said with that awful smile and Iris steeled herself.
“My next stop is to my husband.”
“Why, that’s exactly where I want to take you as well.” Aron said and took a step towards her. Iris took a step back.
“I will not go anywhere with you. Move aside and let me pass.” she demanded and he raised a brow.
“Given your little stunt in the ballroom and standing here without your husband, I wouldn’t think you’d be brave enough to keep up with that attitude.”
She felt anger flare in her bones and couldn’t help scoffing at her father. “When we shooed you away like the dog you are?” she mocked and his expression flattened. “I’m not sure why you get offended. You are the High Lord’s lapdog through and through, aren’t you? Willing to do anything and everything he requests of you?”
“Shut your mouth, you ungrateful bitch.” Aron seethed and Iris couldn’t help the small sense of triumph at riling him up, even as they stepped around each other, knowing his hands could harm her. “The High Lord and I have a mutually beneficial relationship that you and your stupid husband threaten to ruin.”
“Ah, yes. The relationship with you on your knees for the High Lord doing all his dirty work and he allows you to reign free?” she dared to say.
Aron's eyes narrowed and seethed, “And what do you dare mean by that?"
And Iris knew should've stayed quiet. She should’ve listened to the part of her screaming to get away from him as soon and as fast as she could – the survival instinct that had stayed with her over the years of dealing with his fists.
The other part of her, the one now thumping through her veins, was raging at her to keep going. She was a princess of this court. The mate and wife of the next High Lord come hell or high water and her husband was the reason she could stand her ground and know she was worth the fight. She had a right to fight for herself and not let this sorry excuse of a father keep diminishing her like this. So Iris channeled every ounce of arrogance she could muster and smirked, speaking in a tone of such uninterested boredom that she was slightly disappointed Eris wasn’t here to witness it, “Eris and I have often wondered if you get better rewards the better you suck his father's cock. I doubt we’re the only ones.”
“How dare you!”
Her father didn’t give her another chance to say anything else and Iris knew she was playing with fire taunting him but she’d spent her whole life dealing with him and his anger. She was sick of him and his jabs and his entire existence. She would fight fire with fire and consequences be damned.
Aron lunged at his daughter and Iris barely dodged his grip, slicing her dagger up as she went.
“You dare try to hurt me?” he seethed as he moved against her.
“I will hurt anyone who tries to hurt me and you’ve been at the top of my list for years, you piece of shit.” She snapped and took a step back, her eyes darting around the hall for anything that may help her. Anything to stop him as he followed her, trying to corner her while she dodged him.
The hall was dimly lit, and that eerie silence of being alone with him had the shadows playing tricks on her senses as Iris continued to evade her father's advances. The bastard seemed to know her every move and each time she moved one way, he followed her with a snarl. She knew she couldn't quite match his physical strength; Iris had been on the receiving end of his blows for years and that small fear would always linger. But she had to remind herself that she was stronger now. Even if she couldn’t win, she sure as fuck could injure and this fueled her determination.
As Aron lunged once more, his sword now in hand, Iris quickly sidestepped him, her dagger slashing through the air and the metallic clash echoed in the hall as her blade met his. The sound vibrated through the room as father and daughter glared at each other.
“You dance this little number with me and yet, you couldn’t overpower me if you tried, could you?” Aron cooed mockingly and Iris’s jaw clenched as she shoved away from him and a gleam of silver caught her eyes from a nearby table. Backing away slowly, letting her father assume she was retreating, Iris darted towards it, quickly grabbing one of the lofty candlestick holders adorning the hall. The cold metal of the sturdy base felt reassuring in her hand as she held it, facing her father.
“This was always your problem, Aron.” she mocked and her father’s eyes flashed. “You always underestimated me.”
Aron's face twisted with rage, and as he charged at her again, Iris was waiting. She feigned with her dagger and instead swung the candlestick holder with all her might, aiming for his head with a cry of rage, slamming into him as hard as she could. The impact sent him stumbling and she took advantage of his surprise to slam it into him again and watched with gruesome pleasure as her father crumbled to the floor.
The weapon she’d brandished slipped to the floor with a loud clang and Iris allowed herself a moment of deep breaths, her hands shaking. She had knocked him out. She’d won. This round at least.
The joy was brief as Iris remembered what she was originally supposed to be looking for and quickly hid her dagger once more. She glanced down at her father with distaste, grabbing his discarded sword and throat bobbing, Iris focused back on finding her family. She had no doubt her father would be coming after her with a vengeance once he awoke.
Carefully glancing around the corner once more, ensuring she was alone and her father didn’t have anyone else waiting for her, she sprinted towards the guest wing that was rarely used, the only space she could think Beron had walked from. The buzz of her healing magic returned, almost urging her on and Iris focused on swallowing her panic, needing to keep a leveled head.
They had a plan. She would find Oren then find Eris and they would be fine.
Lady Enya had to be fine. She had to be okay. She was finally leaving. Lucien was waiting – Her mate was waiting.
And Eris…she would be by his side however the rest of this night goes.
She skidded to a stop in front of the room, trying to control her heavy breathing as she glanced around the wing to find it deserted, the door to the main room closed. Her magic tingled at her fingertips and Iris knew this was the right place. Quickly, she knocked. “Lady Enya?”
A heartbeat passed and she knocked again, her tone sharpening. “Lady Enya?”
Nothing.
She heard nothing.
Did that mean – had Beron –
Her grip tightened on her blade but Iris made herself take another deep breath and as she raised her hand once more to knock, she heard a pitiful groan.
One of pain.
Iris yanked at the door handle and groaned to find it locked. With a grunt, she threw herself against the door with everything she had once, twice, and by the third shove, her shoulders were aching and her hair had started to become disheveled, there was a small crack in the door. Mustering whatever was left of her energy, she threw herself against the door a final time and it finally burst open. Panting, her gaze swept the room until it fell on a body – three bodies and she nearly keeled over – Lady Enya, Emil, and Oren were bleeding out before her.
Iris’s hands began to shake as she took note of each person and as if in a trance, slowly let the sword slip from her hands. Lady Enya lay face first on the floor, Emil on the ground with a chair toppled over him, and Oren slumped against the wall.
Eris had told her what his father was capable of if provoked but it didn’t stop her from trembling at the sight of the broken furniture and speckles of scattered blood.
“Oh gods.”
Quickly closing the door behind her, Iris rushed over and turned her mother-in-law, blanching at the paleness of her face. Her cheeks were marred with bruises, a cut to her lip and Iris made herself take a breath then another at the sight of the Lady of Autumn’s golden dress now stained with blood.
The chaos had begun and the High Lord certainly knew where to hit.
“Mother? Mother, can you hear me?” she called, trying to keep the frantic panic she felt at bay as her hand hovered over Lady Enya’s body, assessing her as carefully as she could. The High Lord seemed to have used his fists more deliberately with his wife, as if wanting to make sure his touch would haunt her forever and Iris bit her lip hard, sensing the amount of bruises across her mother-in-law’s body. A line of blood sat across her throat as if the High Lord had debated whether to slit it or not and Iris’s hands moved shakily, letting her healing magic find the hurt.
Why hadn’t her body started healing itself yet? What had the High Lord done?
“Please answer me. Please don’t be –”
“Iris.”
Her head snapped to the corner to where Emil struggled and her brother-in-law groaned lowly as he attempted to move. “Emil!” she said and froze for a heartbeat as her gaze flickered between the three bodies. If Lady Enya wasn’t healing, did that mean Emil and Oren hadn’t either? Grimacing, she focused back on her mother-in-law. “What the hell happened? Are you able to get up?”
“My father. He knows.” Emil wheezed and Iris watched him shove the chair off him with a shaky hand. “The fucker knows. Trapped us in here.”
“W-why is there so much blood? ” she asked, carefully shifting Lady Enya’s head to continue checking for injuries. “Why isn’t your mother’s body healing itself? Can you heal yours?”
“No. F-faebane in the drinks he forced on us,” he said with a wince. “My magic is snuffed out.”
“Try not to move, please!” Iris called out and glanced down at Lady Enya with a small sense of relief at the little bit of color returning in her cheeks. “Let me help you first. If you’re already hurt, movement will make it worse.”
With a final assessing hand over Lady Enya, Iris quickly shifted over to Emil, assisting him in sitting up and her brother-in-law hissed when she exposed the nasty wound to his gut. His face was no better than his mother’s and Iris winced at the way his arm was twisted. “The fucker saw me following him and Mother. I tried to make it seem like I wanted to walk her back to the dance but when Oren showed up, he must’ve known something was happening and called us in here,” he explained quickly, panting slightly as Iris carefully touched him. “He wanted to toast the evening and before we could stop him, he forced the drinks on us.”
“What kind of weapon did he use?” Iris asked, moving her hands to scan Emil for further injuries and healing as she went along. “He must’ve –”
“His fists. His magic.” Emil said and moaned painfully as Iris set his arm back in place and healed the wound to his abdomen. “Then his sword. Oren got the brunt of it trying to protect my mother. H-help him, please –”
“I will, I will.” she managed and blew out a breath, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. “Eris – he’s – your father is aware of everything.” Iris helped him shift against the wall, handing him his discarded daggers. “He cornered me in the hallway and I think he has something up his sleeve. It’s going to get ugly.”
“It absolutely will get ugly. He thinks he has one up on us because he knows we’re planning to overthrow him.” Emil seethed, grunting as he adjusted himself, carefully strapping his two daggers to his sides. “But he doesn’t know to what extent.”
“Don’t underestimate him,” she said quietly and Emil put a hand over hers, forcing her to pause but she gave him a tight smile and patted his hand. “I think he knows more than you think he does.”
“What makes you say that?” Emil asked, his eyes narrowing and Iris shrugged helplessly.
“He threatened me with all his ideas for the future out there. Whatever it is, you all must figure out a way around it.” Iris said then backed away from him; she had healed him as best as she could. Swallowing, she met his gaze, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t let Eris deal with it alone, Emil. I know your magic hasn’t returned yet but –”
“You’d be a fool to only rely on your magic in this court.” he rasped and nodded. “I’ll be fine. We’ll get back to him.”
Iris nodded and blinked back the well of tears that surfaced. There was no time for this – no time to dwell on things she couldn’t control. If they couldn’t heal themselves, Iris would gladly do it for them, helping in the only way she knew how. She quickly made her way to Oren and Iris couldn’t help but hiss as she ran her hands over him to find multiple fractures and wounds.
Eris’s friend and one of his most loyal soldiers was bloodied and bruised, left for dead trying to protect their family. Anger boiled beneath her skin at the injustice of it all.
The High Lord had been pissed.
Iris let her magic work, panting slightly at the exertion of so much of her magic all at once. She looked over as Emil slowly began to stand, his hands trembling slightly. “You lost blood, you need to let yourself rest a little longer,” Iris ordered.
“There’s no fucken time for that,” Emil said and breathed deeply, bracing a hand against the wall. “Time will cost us and he’s too prepared. I need to find out how. I need –”
The Lady of Autumn made a small noise and both Iris and Emil glanced over to find her shifting slightly. “Lady Enya?”
Without a word, Emil approached his mother and Iris bit her lip, watching him stumble slightly as he walked. Even with her help, the faebane slowed their healing and they needed more time.
“Emil.” his mother breathed, reaching out a trembling hand as her son assisted her to sit up. “What happened? Where –” Lady Enya’s gaze found Iris, widening, and Iris was grateful to see the bruises on her face had somewhat lessened. “Iris! What are you doing here?”
“I came to find Oren and ended up finding you all together,” she explained, focusing back on Oren’s wounds. “Are you feeling alright? I’m healing everyone as best as possible but I’m a little nervous that –”
“I feel better, thank you.” Lady Enya reassured quickly as alarm crossed her expression and Iris’s brows furrowed, her gaze torn between Enya and Oren. The Lady of Autumn exchanged a look with Emil before her eyes returned to Iris. “You need to leave. Now.”
Iris blinked, her hands flattering for a moment before she resumed healing. “What?”
“Beron —” Enya grunted as Emil helped her stand. “He left us nearly dead on purpose. But you – you – he’s going to use you to ruin Eris. You need to leave.”
“But –”
“Now, Iris. Before he sends someone to –”
“He already had my father waiting for me and I managed to get away. I’m not leaving.”
“Iris –” Emil began but she cut him a glare. “You know he has plans –”
“I’m not leaving.” she snapped. “Everything is already going to hell and if your father is going to hurt my husband – my mate, then I am going to be here and help in any way that I can.”
Emil’s whole body seemed to lurch as he froze. “Your what?” he asked as Enya’s expression shuttered.
“You heard me.” Iris breathed and her heart felt like it was going to explode in her chest. She would not deny him. Not now. Not here. And Eris may have been terrified for people to know about their bond but with things escalating so quickly, how could she worry about anything else?
“I am aware that I promised Eris that I would get out but things have changed and I refuse to leave him now. You think if I tried to run, your father wouldn’t find me so he could keep hurting Eris?” Iris met his gaze and then turned to her mother-in-law, her eyes burning. “He’s the first thing that’s ever been mine. The best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ve waited my whole life to have what I have with him.” Her lip quivered slightly as she glanced down at Oren whose breathing had finally evened then she turned back at them. “This is my fight too and should this end in fire, I will burn with him.”
“Iris…” Enya began and her mother-in-law’s lips trembled but Emil watched her with a look of calculated interest that Iris could’ve sworn had a flicker of pride in it.
Deeming Oren healed enough, Iris carefully stood, glancing down at her stained hands, and fisted them slowly before she faced them once more. “I am not leaving him. He is mine and I am his and whatever may come…we will face it together,” she said and rolled her shoulders back, her tone offering no room for argument. “I hope I have made myself clear.”
It was silent for a moment and Iris’s shoulders tensed, wondering if they’d argue with her or force her to leave — if it was the smartest thing to do but then both Emil and Lady Enya nodded.
“Then I hope my brother trained you well, sister,” Emil said solemnly and her shoulders dropped. “It’s going to be a hard fight.”
“Then a hard fight it is,” she answered and felt nothing but grim determination. “Now tell me, how much of the faebane was in the drink? Do you think the effects will last long?”
“I have an antidote on me. So should you, Mother.” Emil said and ran a hand over his clothing until he found the small vial that somehow hadn’t shattered in the beating he’d gotten then turned to his mother. “We should’ve taken it sooner. I miscalculated and now it’ll cost us –”
“I don’t have it.” Lady Enya said and her face was grave. “He took it from me and crushed it right before you came in.” Her shaking hands fisted in her dress. “He took it and crushed it like he crushed everything else in my life.”
Iris’s throat tightened as Emil’s expression shuttered before thrusting a hand out to his mother. “Then take mine. I’ll be fine to fight until my magic returns.”
“No, Emil, you must –”
“I have an additional one.” Iris cut in, her hand sliding into the hidden pocket of her dress and quickly handing it to her mother-in-law. “You need it more than I do. I will take no argument on this either.”
Lady Enya’s shoulders dropped and Iris hated to see her lip quivering as she slowly closed her hand around the vial and huffed out a weak laugh. “Iris, I –”
The door that Iris had deliberately closed behind her swung open and they all tensed. Emil immediately slid in front of his mother, hiding the antidote and Iris froze when she saw who was standing there.
“You truly thought you could get away from me, daughter.”
Aron stood in the doorway, a smugness mixed with anger in his expression, and was now flanked by three sentries who bore no mark of the Vanserra brothers.
“Do you not know when to give up?” Iris asked in exasperation, her hand immediately sliding to her hidden dagger once more. “How many more times must I humiliate you for you to be gone?”
Her father snorted and the sound had her stomach coiling as that familiar anxiety flared again, not daring to take her eyes off him as she shifted closer to Emil and Lady Enya. He was angrier now and Iris had dared to hurt him. His revenge was coming sooner than she had predicted and she couldn’t help glancing at the bruise still prominent on his temple.
“We’ll see who shall be humiliating who, you stupid bitch,” Aron sneered quietly, his mouth curled in distaste. Iris flushed angrily to be demeaned like this in front of her family but it was that quiet threat in his tone that put her on edge again. Her father’s eyes narrowed as if he could sense her hate, sense her raging heart but he jerked his chin to his soldiers and they began walking towards Iris.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Emil snapped and stepped forward but Aron only gave the prince a cursory glance as Iris backed a step, then another with her father’s soldiers still approaching her.
“You’re still alive?” her father merely said, unbothered by the prince’s reaction. “Your father will be disappointed.”
Emil drew his two blades, a rage she hadn’t seen before cut through the usual calm demeanor he presented, and an invisible barrier went up between them and her father’s soldiers. “You all take one more step toward her and I will cut you where you stand,” he said, his tone lethally calm.
Aron scowled and Iris clenched her jaw, her fingers tight around the hilt of the hidden dagger, the air in the room thick with tension as Aron glanced at them with a tilt of his head. “Now, now, prince. This doesn’t concern you. I’m here for my daughter and nothing else.” he said and gestured with a hand. “Should you and your mother choose to flee, I will grant you a headstart before informing your father that you still draw breath.”
“You dare stand before the Lady and prince of this court and behave this way?” Lady Enya said, her expression filled with cool disdain as she stepped towards him and the lord had the nerve to lift a brow, glancing over her.
“As far as I’m aware, you won’t be the lady of this court for much longer,” Aron replied then added with a small, mocking smile. “Per your husband’s support, I do dare. My lady.”
Emil let a breath pass then another, the room beginning to heat as he scoffed in disbelief. “My brother was right. You certainly are too bold for your own good.” he spat and without warning, threw a blade, landing it in the throat of the soldier on the right with a thud. “Stand down or the next step you take will be the last.”
Aron grimaced at the fallen soldier to his side then glanced at Emil. “That was uncalled for.” he tsked. “Are you sure you want to behave like this, prince? Don’t you know what your father has in store for you?”
“And what do you know about my father’s plans?” Emil asked, taking a step forward.
Aron smiled in a way that triggered every terrible memory Iris had of him. Every bruise, every hurt he had given her always started with that smile and her grip tightened on the hilt of her dagger. “I am your father’s hand. I will execute them as he wishes,” he said. “My daughter is the final piece of the punishment he plans to unleash on you all but do you know who else will be part of it?”
Emil’s eyes narrowed as Iris shifted a step over, her eyes on her father. “Considering you seem to love the sound of your own voice, I assume you’ll be telling me.”
Her father chuckled and it made Iris’s skin crawl. “I do believe you know her quite well,” Aron said and Iris watched Emil’s body tighten, her gaze caught between him and her father. “She’s a pretty thing. Gave her quite the fright when we yanked her from her hiding place.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“No sense in denying your lover, Emil. It’s Cosette, isn't it?” Aron said, making a show of consulting his lapdogs behind him and Emil seemed to stop breathing. “You can imagine how fun it was to watch her succumb to her fear as she was blindfolded. Especially when we popped out that little earpiece and she could no longer hear clearly what was going on.” Aron gave a nasty laugh and Iris felt her stomach drop, watching as color leached from Emil’s face and his hands started shaking. “It was delightful.”
“You can’t be serious.” Iris breathed and Aron spared her a look of disdain before his eyes went back to Emil.
“Henry Adler’s daughter is a bold move for you, boy. Your father will relish in breaking you with her in company.”
“Tell me where she is right now you fucken piece of shit.” Emil snarled and Aron tsked again.
“I would watch that tone,” Aron said and wagged a finger. “Your father gave me free rein to do what I must and we barely touched her. It would be a shame for you to bring her further harm should you continue to be disrespectful.” her father said and Iris felt bile rise in her throat.
Cosette was supposed to be long gone alongside Theo. If they had Cosette, did that mean they had him too? How long had they had her for? How had they gotten their hands on her? Eris had said the signal had been clear this morning. Her eyes met Lady Enya’s and they seemed to share the same thought: how had this happened?
“Stop this at once.” Lady Enya demanded. “Do not bring an innocent girl into this.”
“She’s the daughter of a traitor and the lover of one. None of you are innocent.” Aron crooned. “And I will do as the High Lord has requested of me whether you wish to see it or not. Maybe if you give up her father, we’ll do a trade.”
“Tell me where she is right now.”
Aron only snorted. “And what would be the fun in that?”
Without warning, Aron and his remaining soldiers lunged forward and chaos erupted in the room. Iris swiftly moved, her training kicking in as she dodged her father’s grip. She couldn’t believe he was challenging Emil and Lady Enya so openly. Had they all lost their minds? Had the High Lord really allowed him such leeway? Then again, he had left part of his family to bleed out in this very room and if had his hands on two of them, what’s to stop him from killing their significant others as well? What of Helene and the baby?
“Stop this madness, you fool.” Iris demanded. “The High Lord is –.”
Aron didn’t even spare Emil and Enya a glance as they took on his sentries, continuing towards her. The bastard wasn’t even using a weapon. “Worry less about the High Lord and more about how your husband will be paying for his crimes.”
Iris faltered for a moment. “My husband committed no crimes.”
“No?” he said with a smile full of malice. “Treason isn’t a crime to you?”
“Save me your bullshit.” Iris snarled. “The only criminal here is you and I am so sick of your shit.”
“When you’re with the High Lord, nothing you do is a crime,” Aron said with a chuckle then lunged forward to grab her but Iris dodged, her fist flying out and connecting to her father’s cheek.
He blinked back in surprise and almost absently touched his face. “That is the second time you have laid hands on me.”
“And I will do it again if you even think about touching me.” she promised.
Her father watched her and Iris hated to see the curiosity in his gaze. “So it seems you have truly learned to fight.” Aron mused and the mocking tone grated on every nerve in Iris’s body as she moved.
“My husband taught me well.” she snapped and her blade sliced up as Aron reached a hand for her. Her father hissed and the scent of fresh blood filled the air as Aron glanced down at his bleeding hand and then back at his daughter. Iris swallowed, her heart in her throat as rage clouded his expression but she stood her ground. “He gave me everything you tried to deny me of.”
“Then it’s a shame you’ll end up being his downfall, won’t it?” Her father hissed and lunged forward, slamming her into the wall. Iris yelped but refused to go down without clawing at him, anger and fear fueling her every move. She sliced her dagger again, meeting flesh when her father backhanded her and she grunted, trying to step out of his reach again. But Aron was angrier than she’d ever seen him before and when she tried to move out of his reach, he shoved her back against the wall, his elbow digging into her throat. “I’ve had just about enough of you.”
“Then get the hell out of my way.” Iris snarled but her father ignored her and instead, yelled over his shoulder, “Now.”
Iris’s gaze quickly shot to Emil and Layd Enya still fighting but the look cost her. Her father now had a small vial in his hand and with a nasty smile that had her hackles rising, Aron crushed it in his hand. “Say goodnight, daughter.”
“Wait –” she gasped but her father only smirked then blew the powder in his hand into her face and a wave of nausea washed over Iris, blind panic unfurling in her chest as the last thing she saw was her father’s smug face before it all went to black.
——
He had made a mistake.
As Eris watched the people enjoying the ball around them, he knew sending Iris away before his father returned was a mistake. He didn’t know where the High Lord was, Emil and his mother were missing and with Emil missing, he didn’t know if Mikel was in place to take his mother away.
The longer he stood there, the more quickly his lungs were shrinking, and if Eris didn’t force himself to breathe, he’d likely have a stroke on the spot. Everything in his body was shriveling at the sense of wrongness surrounding him, and doubt began to fester in his mind in earnest.
Something was wrong.
Had they been stupid enough to think they could take his father on? Should they have gone about this differently? Could they have tolerated him a little more and snuck their mother out on a different day?
Too many variables were out of his control now and the one person who had ever settled him was gone and still, Eris regretted not sending her away sooner.
His fists clenched behind his back and when Izak and Finn casually slid up next to him, Eris already knew it would get worse. He quickly shielded them from listening ears.
“We’ve lost communication with some of the soldiers on the outside,” Izak muttered, running a hand over his beard. “And there seem to be more sentries we don’t know in the room.”
“Mikel hasn’t checked in again and I’m starting to get fucken antsy,” Finn added and Eris’s gaze sharpened on his brothers.
“What do you mean he hasn’t checked in?” Eris said. “You haven’t heard from him about the others?”
“I heard from Lucien.” Izak confirmed with a frown. “Helene is fine.”
“Nothing about Theo? Or even Cosette?” Finn asked. “Where the fuck is Emil?”
Eris scowled then rolled his shoulders back, feeling every inch of him tense. “I need to find Father. You two figure out what’s going on and try to stay together. I don’t trust a single person in this room.”
“We’ll go with you,” Izak said but Eris shook his head.
“You both can’t follow me. People will notice.”
“Where’s Iris?” Finn asked and Eris felt the question snatch his breath.
“I sent her to find Oren and get out before whatever is about to happen does.”
Finn and Izak shared a glance that had Eris tense further.
“I was going to tell you that Oren’s been too quiet for a while. I – I can’t get a hold of him.” Finn said tightly and Eris felt his stomach drop.
“What.” he snapped.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything –” Izak quickly said but Eris’s glare shut his brother right up.
“You know it means something.” He hissed. “You haven’t heard from Mikel and now Oren is missing. I sent her — if he’s not — and your father is still –”
Eris made himself take a deep breath and fisted his shaking hands tighter. “Do as I told you. I need to find your fucken father and find out where my wife is.”
“Let me find Iris and make sure she’s alright. Maybe that’ll lead me to Mikel as well. You and Izak focus on Father.” Finn said and Eris met his brother’s gaze.
“Finn.”
“She’ll be alright, Eris. You trained her to handle herself, didn’t you?”
“You know Father is a different kind of beast and I –”
The words died in his throat as his father casually strolled into the room and all the air in the room was sucked out as he made his way over to them. Slowly, as if deliberately giving them time to note each step.
Eris swallowed once then nodded to his brothers. “Get out. Get out now.”
“And leave you here?” Izak demanded quietly.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure being here with him alone is wise?” Finn asked. “Eris, if he’s already –”
“Whatever the damage is, it’s already done. Find the others,” he said and spared them both a glance. “Go. Now. Before he gets closer.”
A heartbeat of silence passed and the grim determination he found on their faces matched his own. His younger brothers. How different would their relationship have been had they grown up anywhere but here? With any other father? Who could have they become? What kind of lives would they lead instead of this?
The question that plagued him all his life rose to the surface as he turned to watch his father again: what would it feel like to finally take a breath without worrying about his father’s hand choking it out of him?
The three of them said nothing and Eris only nodded once before the two of them scattered.
He kept his eyes on his father as he walked toward him, his brothers steering clear of the High Lord. Even as his Father addressed his guests as he passed them, his eyes never left his eldest son and every inch of Eris tightened, winding up for battle. Whatever his Father thought was happening, Eris knew deep in his bones that he would be taking the brunt of it all.
His heart was a ticking time bomb and Eris had a feeling it would explode any minute with each step his father took toward him.
Time seemed to slow as father and son met, standing before one another. The music was drowned out and the glittering lights did nothing to stop the darkness that sank into Eris as he stared at his father.
Even as they stood in a room full of people, Eris heard and saw nothing else but the male in front of him. The one person who had ruined his life and those he cared about in every way possible.
“You seem to be waiting for me, son.”
The High Lord’s tone was conversational, almost light and Eris clasped his hands behind him, matching his father’s tone. “Your absence was noted, Father. I was coming to find you,” he said.
The High Lord gave him a faint smile. “Did you miss me, son?”
Eris’s smile was thin as his thumb tapped against his hand. “Always.” he lied. “I see Mother isn’t with you.”
Beron shrugged an elegant shoulder, the corner of his mouth curling up. “She’s decided to take a break from the evening. She doesn’t seem to be feeling well.”
Eris’s eyes narrowed, his heart thundering in his chest. “Oh?” he asked carefully. “She seemed fine earlier. Where is she now?”
His father didn’t answer right away and instead, let silence dance between them. The High Lord said nothing and Eris felt his slowly magic start to thump in his veins again. Loudly. Enough that even the dagger at his side seemed heavier. He wondered if his father could sense it as he watched him.
“You seem to be implying that I am lying to you,” Beron said in that same conversational tone and Eris made himself take a small breath through his nose.
“Of course not. I am merely surprised at how quickly she seems to have fallen ill,” he replied. “I will go check on her. Bring a healer to examine her as well.”
Beron hummed and the disapproval in it made Eris stiffen. “Your concern for your mother isn’t necessary, son.” the High Lord said and gave him a smile that didn’t reach his cold, dead eyes. “She will be fine. I need you here, dazzling the guests.” Eris’s brows flattened and before he could object, his father turned away and demanded, “Walk with me.”
The tension in the air thickened as Eris hesitated a beat and then followed his father, the echoes of their footsteps drowned out by the thrumming beat of his heart. The continued casualness in his father’s demeanor grated on Eris and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking towards the beginning of what felt like the final act.
As they moved through the splendor of the ballroom, Eris scanned the faces of the guests, both relieved and anxious that he saw no signs of his brothers. The uneasiness continued to grip his chest, thoughts of his mother and Iris making it difficult to focus on anything else. The laughter and music felt insulting as the weight of impending doom hung heavy around his neck.
He followed his father until the High Lord reached his throne and took a seat, leaving Eris standing before him. Beron gestured for him to move closer and Eris took the two steps up the dais until he was facing his father. Beron said nothing, merely snapping his fingers for a server to bring him a drink and a muscle feathered in Eris’s jaw at the deliberate waste of time, praying to whatever gods were listening that he didn't shove the whole glass down his father’s throat.
As if reading his thoughts, Beron’s mouth curled and he finally broke the silence, his voice low, ominous. “You've always been intelligent, Eris. It's a trait that I had hoped would serve you well, but it seems to be backfiring on you lately. Causing more trouble than it's worth.”
Eris shot his father a sharp glance, his jaw clenching again. "And what trouble might that be, Father?”
Beron chuckled darkly, and the sound sent shivers down Eris's spine, tension lining every muscle as he stood there. But the High Lord only sat back on his throne, his finger tapping on the flute of champagne observing his son and for once, Eris let his anger flare.
“Are we really going to play these games right now?” he said flatly.
“Interesting you should say that, son,” Beron said lightly. “Considering you’re the one who is playing a very, very dangerous game.”
Eris straightened, his fists clenching behind his back. He let a beat of silence pass, slowly breathing through his nose again before he spoke. “Am I?”
Beron hummed, his gaze burning into Eris, his eyes calculating his son’s every breath. “I understand you’re used to insulting my intelligence given how much control I’ve given you over our court.” he mused then made a discontent noise. “One could even say it was my fault that I let you be so unchecked. That I…trusted you.”
Eris's stomach churned at the tone in his father's voice. He tried to maintain his composure; he usually relied on his father avoiding a public spectacle but given the circumstances, Eris wasn’t sure it would stop the High Lord this time. The knot of anxiety tightened in his throat and he cleared it before he continued. “Father, I would never –”
“Do not look me in the face and lie to me, boy.” Beron threatened softly.
The High Lord’s gaze raked over Eris with that signature distaste and every fiber of his being was on high alert. With his father, that could mean anything. Eris was a busy male, he had been up to many things but didn’t dare let any emotion other than feigned confusion slip through.
“And what exactly am I lying about, High Lord?”
“High Lord.” he spat and Eris bristled. “You mock the title with your deceit.”
Squaring his shoulders, Eris forced himself to maintain a sense of calm, refusing to let his father get under his skin. “I’m sorry to hear that even tonight, I have managed to disappoint you, Father.”
Beron spared Eris a glance before looking back at the guests. “We’ll see how sorry you’ll be as the night goes on, son.” the High Lord managed and Eris’s confusion wasn’t feigned this time, trying as he might to keep the beat of his heart steady.
He ran his tongue over his teeth and said, “Is there something you wish to tell me?”
His father chuckled and the sound sent a shiver down Eris’s spine. “There are many things I wish to tell you but it will have to wait for the show later.”
A beat of silence. “What show? We have nothing planned.”
“You don’t have anything planned,” Beron said and it was the predatory gleam in his father’s eyes that made the thumping in Eris’s chest quicken. “I most certainly do.”
Eris struggled to maintain a facade of calm as a storm of prickling anxiety and rage boiled beneath his skin. He almost wished his father would outright say whatever it was he was up to and let the cards fall where they may so Eris could rework his plans.
Steeling himself, he decided he would find his mother first and ensure Iris had made it out. He was too tense to tell if the thread that tugged on his ribcage was because of him or because of Iris but either way, he didn’t want to wait too long to find out.
Eris needed to get away from his father.
“Well.” he finally forced himself to say. “I will…entertain our guests until your show begins. Send a healer to mother and –”
“No. I don’t think you will.” Beron said with a hum and before Eris could brace himself, his father’s magic locked on his body, holding him in place.
He couldn’t move. His body wouldn’t budge.
Panic unfurled in his chest as he glanced at his father who was eyeing the room again, with no care in the world. “Father.” Eris hissed. “What is the meaning of this?”
The High Lord glanced at his son. “You don’t need to go anywhere just yet. I like having you by my side.”
“But I –”
“Did I tell you?” His father asked with a small smile. “I saw your pretty wife in the hallway. She too, was looking for your mother.” Beron’s tone was nonchalant. “We had a lovely chat.”
Eris didn’t get a chance to even appear confused when the High Lord seemed to drop the glamour around himself and he felt the world tilt as Iris’s scent washed over him.
Eris took a breath. Then another.
He felt his soul leave his body at the smile his father gave him. A smile that meant more than it should. For Eris knew his scent mingled with hers and with an ironclad shield settling around them, his father knew Eris would not receive this news well.
“What did you do.” he breathed and fear like he’d never ever felt before spiked in his heart. He fisted his shaking hands and tried to move, demanding again, “What did you do?”
“Do not take that tone with me.” his father said quietly, observing him.
“Then answer my question.” Eris hissed. “Did you touch her? Did you hurt her?”
Beron’s chuckle was sinister and every morsel in Eris’s body filled with rage. “I only touched her a little bit but…perhaps that will change later tonight.”
“Father.” he snarled and Eris knew it was only because of his father’s shield that the whole room hadn’t heard him. “Do not toy with me.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Beron said with a small smile. “But your wife? I shall certainly enjoy toying with her.”
Eris felt the world slide from beneath his feet as his father’s gaze remained on him and Eris tried his everything not to let his expression shift – not to give the fucker any satisfaction but his lungs had lost air and he wasn’t sure how to –
A choked noise slipped from his throat and Eris hadn’t been imagining it – his father’s magic was choking him.
“You seem so worried about her.” The High Lord mused. “I haven’t done anything to her yet.” His father’s gaze bore into him. “With your scent all over her, I’ll need to wait a little while before I have my fun.”
“Father.” Eris choked but the High Lord merely tsked, his expression almost bored.
And Eris realized at that moment just how well and truly fucked he was. If his father was hinting at his mating bond with Iris, he had to know about other things. His eyes sought out the blur of people for his brothers but he had sent them out of the room and Eris was forced to stand there – forced to remain locked like this in his father’s hold, glamoured so that no one would see anything unusual happening. No one would be looking at him.
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me, son?” the High Lord asked, tilting his head as Eris struggled. “This is your chance to do so before things get exceedingly worse for you.”
Eris’s throat bobbed. How big of a spectacle would his father make this? He could break out of this but too many people were missing. Too many fucken variables he didn’t control. Could he unleash himself without setting the whole room on fire? Without harming everyone else?
Did it really matter as long as he took his father out? Would it be justified if, at least, the High Lord was extinguished?
But no. He was not his father. He would not harm for the sake of harming.
He let his expression neutralize and slowly calmed his raging heart. He wasn’t sure about his mother but if Beron let Iris walk away maybe it would be fine.
His brothers were on the prowl. He would give them a little more time – just enough that when he exploded, Eris would know they would be alright.
So he met his father’s gaze and said as conversationally as possible, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Beron let a moment of silence pass then sighed. “I’m disappointed by that answer.”
The High Lord’s magic tightened around Eris’s throat and he made a wheezing sound as his father forced him to take a step forward, forcing him to kneel before him.
Beron’s hand reached out and if Eris could have, he would’ve flinched back as the High Lord’s hand brushed his son’s face. Had anyone been watching them, the gesture would’ve been loving but his father’s hand was anything but as he gripped his chin and forced him to look up at him.
“Remember that I gave you a choice.” the High Lord said, his voice full of violent promise. “I gave you the chance to confess and you decided to continue lying to me.”
“I have nothing to confess,” Eris said, his tone strained and his father’s grip tightened painfully.
The High Lord shoved him back with a snort. “Then do not complain when it all comes crashing down on your head,” he warned and raised his glass. “I hope you and your brothers enjoy the consequences of your actions.”
And every lick of fear he had ever doused – every prickle of anxiety he had fought off in the last few weeks crashed over him and Eris was helpless to do anything but wait for whatever hell his father was about to unleash.
How’s one to know?
I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones
In a faith-forgotten land
In from the snow
Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow
Tarnished but so grand
-
Eris and Iris.
Son of a high lord. Daughter of a fiend.
An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the fight, the two are more alike than they’d like to be. Follow Eris and Iris as they navigate a relationship that neither of them asked for, the politics that dictate so much of their lives, and what happens when feelings start to find their way between them. / Tropes to expect: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, dislike to love, slow burn. / Read on AO3
Eris x Iris inspiration | SMTB inspiration | Iris | playlists | Art | Asks | Headcanons | Family List | Vanserra Brothers
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Bonus Scene
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
~
Eiris Prompt - Iris on her cycle.
Snippets
Drawing Up the Plans - Eiris Valentine’s Day Modern AU
That nonsexual intimacy of just being in each other's spaces, of gravitating towards each other, always subconsciously reaching out to each other. Finding comfort and satisfaction in being close to each other, breathing each other in, existing together.
In a lucky twist of fate, smokewraith-assassin Nesta Archeron becomes the first person to ever attempt killing Beron Vanserra and escape unharmed. Now, the entire Guard chases after her, led by the one and only Autumn Court Heir. But Eris Vanserra doesn’t seek to punish — no, he wants to enlist her help.
With the final Card, I’m so very excited to introduce you to the disaster also known as Vermilion Vanserra, Sixth Son of Autumn and courtier & emissary. After Lucien’s exile, it was Vermilion who’d been called to step in, with Beron finding no other use for his second youngest than to send him away.
But Vermilion had as little interest in dazzling Prythian nobility as the faith his father placed in him. Deciding to frequent foreign taverns and company of an entirely different kind, Vermilion has come to know secrets that can only be whispered by a lover in the dark.
@dusk-muse I can’t believe this is the last one! I hope you love Vermilion, who, without getting too spoilery, will be playing an important role in I Bet on Losing Dogs. You can see Part 2 of his Card and a close-up under the cut. Stay tuned and thank you so much for tagging along for the first part of this journey!
Vermilion Vanserra is my OC, please do not use him in any works. Thank you!
@acotargiftexchange
Trying To Relate @louthorne1 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
