An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz x @theladyofdeath
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
Chapters:
One
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
nine
ten
eleven
twelve
thirteen
fourteen
fifteen
sixteen
seventeen
eightteen
nineteen
twenty
twenty-one
twenty-two
epilogue
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Nesta took a deep breath, every emotion she had ever felt toward Cassian Nazari coming to the surface. She hadn’t seen him in over twenty-four hours, and it had been the longest she had been without him since they’d been together.
She hated it.
But, it would all be worth it.
She looked in the mirror, admiring herself, shamelessly. It was a day she had dreamt of for so long, a day she had planned for and waited for, longingly.
A day she had almost thought would never come.
A cry from down the hall had her turning away from the mirror and towards her daughter’s bedroom, where her sisters were supposed to be getting her ready. She sighed, glanced into the hallway to make sure there was no sign of Cassian and hurried down the hall.
“No!” Sloan was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, the little dress with the pink tutu in her Aunt Elain’s outstretched hands. “No pink!”
“This is what you have to wear today, sweet girl,” Elain explained. “It’s what mommy picked out for you.”
She shook her head, not yet noticing Nesta standing in the doorway. Feyre stood off to the side, rubbing her round stomach and sighed. “I’m hoping she’s as stubborn as she is thanks to Cass and that’s not an Archeron thing.”
Nesta scoffed, “It’s a Sloan thing,” before entering her daughter’s room.
“Mama!” She said, lifting her arms to be picked up the second she saw her. Nesta did so and Sloan pointed at the dress in Elain’s hands. “Mine?”
The one word sentences had become a very normal thing in their house. No was her favorite word, but Beau Beau was a close second.
“Yes, yours, isn’t it beautiful?” Nesta asked.
Sloan crossed her little arms. “No.”
Nesta sighed, setting Sloan on the ground. She was more of a run in her underwear through the mud type of little lady.
Which she got from her father.
“Daddy wants you to wear this dress,” Nesta pushed. “And when the wedding is done, you can change.”
Sloan’s little lips pursed together. “No pink.”
“Mama loves pink.”
“No pink.”
Nesta hung her head, exasperated. “Get Cass. She’ll do whatever he asks.”
Feyre chuckled but nodded. “Make yourself scarce. I’ll be back in five.”
Nesta did just that, re-entering her own bedroom, and putting on her jewelry and slipping her mother’s pins into her hair, the last touches she needed to be ready to walk down the aisle. To marry her best friend.
Speaking of, she heard slow, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and it took everything she had not to throw open the door, grab his face and kiss him until she was lightheaded.
She would do more than that tonight.
But for now she had to wait, and her heart melted when she heard him ask, “Where did they find a dress for a princess as beautiful as you, huh?”
The giggle she heard next was the telltale daddy’s throwing me in the air giggle, which she adored, but stressed her out to no end.
“No pink, daddy,” she heard a minute later.
“Yes, pink,” Cassian said, his tone matching hers. “Because mommy loves this dress, and we love mommy.”
There was a small stretch of silence before she heard Cassian say, “If you put this dress on, daddy will give you a sucker.”
Nesta rolled her eyes, but Sloan’s excited giggled floated through the air. She supposed there were worse ways to get Sloan into her dress, although Nesta hoped all sucker goo stayed off Sloan’s dress until pictures were done.
Nesta glanced at the clock on the wall.
She had twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes too long. Nesta was ready to marry Cassian, and she was ready to marry him now.
She was in the bathroom, touching up her make up one last time, when she heard her door open and quick footsteps ran across the hardwood before when the bathroom door was shoved open. Sloan stood there, a broad grin on her face. Her blue-gray eyes, Nesta’s eyes, were sparkling and Nesta couldn’t help but grin back.
“Princess, mama!” She announced, holding onto the edges of the tutu.
“You’re the most beautiful princess I’ve ever seen,” Nesta said, picking her up, and gazing in the mirror.
There were days Nesta swore she was the spitting image of her father, but that was usually when she was getting into something she wasn’t supposed to. Right now though, save for her naturally olive complexion and her dark hair, she looked so much like herself.
“Do you remember where you’re supposed to go when your basket is empty?” Nesta asked, picking the small basket up from where it sat next to her bouquet.
“Beau Beau,” she replied confidently and Nesta chuckled.
“No, baby. You can either stand with Aunt Elain or sit with Mor and Vivi.”
“Aunt Lainey,” she said, squirming to get down.
“I know, we love Aunt Lainey,” Nesta confirmed, setting her back on the floor.
Elain came in, Feyre just behind her, and both of them were smiling, softly.
“Are you ready to get into place?” Feyre asked.
Nesta looked at herself one last time before she nodded. “So ready.”
Elain picked up Sloan before slipping her other hand in Nesta’s. Feyre did the same on Nesta’s other side, then they were walking down the stairs together.
The house was empty, all except for Azriel, who stood at the bottom of the stairs. He smiled upon seeing the women come into view. After kissing Elain’s forehead, he held his hand out to Nesta.
“Ready?” He asked, quietly, his smile fully genuine.
She took it and said, “You have no idea.”
Music began to play from out front and Nesta looked at her sisters.
Elain whispered, “It’s time.”
Feyre was the first one Cassian saw, carrying Sloan down the porch steps. She looked radiant, absolutely glowing at six months pregnant. A glance over at his brother told him he thought so, too. But when she set his daughter on her feet and she gripped onto Beau’s tuxedo collar, he thought his heart might burst. Nesta had rolled her eyes, but never objected. Beau was a part of the family, there was no way he wasn’t going to be in the wedding.
But his sweet girl, his Sloan was so beautiful. He never thought he could love someone as much as he loved Nesta, so all consuming and vital to his happiness. But then Sloan came crashing into his world, and he couldn’t imagine a second without her. He wiped at his face, and chuckled to himself, knowing if he was crying seeing his baby girl, he had no hope when his beautiful fiancée stepped out of their home’s front door.
Feyre stepped to the side and Cassian whistled quietly. Beau began walking towards him slowly, careful not to make the baby tumble over. He wasn’t nearly as excitable as he was when he was a puppy, but Sloan was his entire world and he would never do anything to hurt her.
Halfway down the aisle, Sloan finally noticed who was at the end, and cried, “Daddy!” before happily giggling down the rest of the walk.
Except it was more of a run.
The white rose petals in the basket were forgotten as she hurried to her daddy.
So much for standing with Elain as planned.
Cassian laughed as he scooped Sloan up in his arms, her little hands flat out against his chest before her head fell into his shoulder.
Feyre couldn’t help but laugh as she followed her niece.
Elain was next, shaking her head with a smile as she took in the scene before her, underneath the archway draped in floral and greenery. She winked at her about-to-be brother-in-law as she stepped up in front of Feyre, but Cassian’s eyes never wavered from the door, which Nesta would be walking through any second.
Excitement flooded his body, and he held onto Sloan a little bit tighter as that front door opened, once again, and Azriel stepped out, Nesta on his arm.
He forgot how to breathe. The dress she wore was simple, elegant lace with a beaded belt. It was plain enough that it let her beauty shine, but she never needed any help with that. Her smile was the most gorgeous sight in the world, but when she saw him at the end of the aisle, holding their precious baby, she couldn’t help but cover it up. He heard the teary laugh from across the yard and couldn’t stop his own.
“Mama pretty,” Sloan whispered, and his arms tightened around her.
“Yes, she is.”
The walk down the aisle was the longest walk of Nesta’s life. If it wasn’t for Azriel’s calming presence - and very firm grip - on her arm, she was fairly sure she would have sprinted across the grass and thrown her arms around him. But she kept her pace, walking in time to the music they selected, and then she was standing in front of Cassian.
The officiant didn’t ask who gave Nesta away, Azriel just stepped to the side, taking his spot next to Rhys, and Nesta took Cassian’s outstretched hand. Her heart had belonged to him since she arrived back in Velaris. There was no need to give a blessing when they’d already been so blessed beyond comparison.
The ceremony was relatively short, mostly because Nesta had told the officiant beforehand to marry them as quickly as possible, because she just couldn’t wait any longer. Once the vows had been said, and Cassian kissed his bride, they were swept away into a mess of pictures and greetings and whatever else. Nesta didn’t care, though. She would do the messy wedding thing, as long as Cassian didn’t leave her side.
After the pictures, Sloan fell asleep on Cassian’s shoulder, and after they got pictures of that, she was being carried away by Feyre, who was begging to sit down from her own pregnancy exhaustion.
As everyone ate the extravagant meal they had catered, Cassian took Nesta’s hand and pulled her away.
“Hope you’re not too hungry,” he muttered, pulling her around the side of the house as the sun sank down behind the hillside.
“No,” she laughed, “but I’m surprised you’re not.”
He winked. “I can eat later. But right now, I want to spend time with my wife.”
She smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head slightly. “Is it fun to say?”
His grin was breathtaking. “Oh, it’s fun. You should try it.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t, there’s no one here but my husband to appreciate it.” She was smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt. “You’re right, it’s fun.”
Cassian cupped her face and kissed her softly. “Are you having a good time?”
“Of course, I am,” she said, looking back to where some of their friends and family were still eating and others had already jumped on the dance floor. “This day is everything I ever dreamed it would be.”
“It sure was a hell of a time getting here,” he breathed, brushing a curled strand of hair out of her face. “And to think it wasn’t too long ago that I thought you were just a spoiled, rude, beautiful woman.”
Nesta chuckled. “You don’t still think that?”
“The beautiful part, maybe,” he grinned. “And the spoiled part. But just because you’re spoiled by me.”
“We both are,” Nesta chuckled. “Me and that baby that’s passed out on my sister, drooling on her beautiful gown.”
“I love that baby,” Cassian whispered. “And her mama.”
“Would it be rude to tell everyone to go home so that I can take you upstairs?” Nesta whispered, her hands on his chest.
Cassian laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist. “We can't very well kick the people out before they’ve eaten dinner, I feel like you of all people should know that.”
She smiled and rested her head against Cassian’s chest. “I know, wishful thinking.”
He kissed the top of her head and smiled. “Everything is so crazy back there, I just wanted a minute alone with you.”
Nesta was gazing out towards where that cottage used to be, at the long driveway they had put in, that would lead right to the restaurant Nesta had plans for. The cottage was gone, but the memories still lingered, eighteen months later.
She leaned into his chest and closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. She wanted to savor the moment, wanting to remember every second, wanted to dedicate every inch of him in his wedding attire to memory. They only got one wedding day, and although it was busy and stressful and overwhelming, it was all about them, their love, their little family, and how far they had come.
Laughter and conversation floated from the back of the house, where the guests were gathered, eating and enjoying each other, celebrating.
“I guess I should go check if Sloan is still asleep on Aunt Feyre,” Nesta whispered.
“You should check if Aunt Feyre is sleeping,” Cassian countered. She’d had a rough pregnancy thus far. Sick, weak, and ready for her baby to be brought into the world.
“Come on,” she smiled. “Let’s go be merry and married.”
He followed her and they did just that, sharing their first dance, cutting the cake, tossing the bouquet and the garter - which just happened to end up in Lucien and Vassa’s hands - and then they were ready for their grand exit.
Since they got married in their home, they decided to take the truck down to the cabin, and Az and Elain would stay in the main house with Sloan. She was just now getting used to sleeping in her own crib and Nesta was not on board for throwing that off.
After a quick goodnight, tucking her in and letting her sleep in her “princess dress”, they were hurrying down the stairs.
“We’re just down the hill, call us if you need us,” Cassian explained before they walked out to where the truck and their remaining family and friends waited.
“We’ve got this,” Elain smiled and Nesta hugged her.
“Hang her dress up once she’s asleep, please,” Nesta said. “We were not getting it off of her awake.”
Azriel snorted. “Got it.”
Nesta hesitated. “And...you know...if you want to send me little updates now and then-.”
“We’re a quarter of a mile away,” Elain reminded her, with gentle eyes.
Nesta had never spent a full night away from Sloan. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her family, but the thought of anything happening to Sloan, after what they had been through, was unfathomable.
“I’ll keep you updated if you promise to go enjoy yourselves,” Elain followed. “Now, go!”
Nesta chuckled as she climbed into the truck. “Fine, fine.”
After another round of goodbyes and thank yous, they were headed down the driveway, toward the little cabin, where they would spend their first night together as man and wife.
The same place they’d spent so many of their early days. Thinking of that had Nesta smiling as they parked in front of the cabin.
“You’re so gorgeous.”
She looked over to where he was sitting behind the wheel. In a pair of nice, clean jeans, a crisp button down, a vest, and, of course, his boots, Nesta couldn’t get over how handsome he looked. Even Sloan had said so, announcing to everyone how pretty her daddy looked. She blushed and looked at her hands, the sparkling diamond on her finger and the platinum band sitting alongside it. Cassian reached across the middle console and turned her chin to face him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she smiled, leaning into his touch.
He opened to the truck door and she unbuckled her seat belt, moving to do the same. “Stay right there,” he ordered, hopping out and hurrying around to her side.
Opening her door, he slid his hands underneath her dress and scooped her up, making her giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you across the threshold.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She laughed as he climbed the porch steps and said, “We don’t live here though.”
“We used to,” he smirked down at her. “Same difference.”
She rolled her eyes but definitely didn’t protest as he carried her up the porch stairs, kicked open the door, and carried her inside. He didn’t set her down until they were in the bedroom, and she gasped upon entering.
Rose petals were scattered across the bed, candles were everywhere. Last time Nesta had seen Cassian's old bedroom in the cabin, it was being used as storage. Now, it was as beautiful as any honeymoon suite.
“I was busy this morning,” Cassian said, quietly, reading her thoughts.
He laid her down, gently, on the bed.
“It’s perfect,” she promised, smiling faintly.
Cassian went back out to grab their bag from the truck, then shut the front door, and she heard the lock move into place.
Nesta checked her phone quickly to make sure Elain hadn’t texted, even though they’d been gone less than five minutes.
“What the hell are you gonna do when she goes to school?” Cassian asked, grinning, as he came back into the bedroom, the duffel bag Nesta had packed for them tossed over his shoulder.
“I have years before I have to deal with that,” Nesta said, sighing, putting her phone on the nightstand. “Thank the gods.”
Cassian held out his hand and Nesta took it, standing and wrapping his arms around his waist. He did the same and leaned down to brush a kiss against her lips. “You’re such an amazing mother. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
Her eyes were bright, and she looked absolutely radiant as she looked up at him. “One of them?” She asked. “What else is on that list?”
“Your love for our family.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Your tenacity.” Her cheek. “Your loyalty.” Her jaw. “Your bad ass cooking.” Her neck. “And I can’t forget your tits.”
Nesta laughed and grabbed his face, pressing her lips to his. “Shut up and make love to your wife.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her again, but she was pushing against his chest.
He raised a brow. “Was that a tease? If it was, it wasn’t very nice.”
She snorted, and shook her head as she turned around. “First, you have to get me out of all these buttons.”
Cassian blinked.
There were a lot of buttons.
“Why couldn’t you have gotten a dress with a zipper?” Cassian mumbled, starting at the top to undo the long line of buttons, one by one.
“You don’t like this one?” Nesta asked.
Cassian laughed a breathy laugh. “When I saw you step out of that house, I cried.”
Nesta looked at him over her shoulder as the dress became loose.
“The dress is stunning, but you could’ve worn a paper sack and I would’ve still cried,” Cassian continued, meeting her gaze.
That gaze made Nesta feel like she was on fire.
The things this man could do to her with just a look, with just a word.
Her husband.
She felt the last of the buttons separate and she let her dress fall to the floor before turning to face him.
His eyes were wide. “Wow.”
Wow was right.
Feyre and Elain had taken Nesta lingerie shopping for her bachelorette party. Feyre couldn’t drink and the other two agreed to suffer in solidarity, but Nesta didn’t complain. Any time with her sisters was perfect, even if wine wasn’t involved.
Cassian dragged a calloused finger along the boning of the white corset and then down the strap of the garter belt.
Suddenly, Nesta felt self conscious in all of the white lace. She wasn’t a virgin, by any means, their daughter sleeping in her crib at the house was proof of that. But she wanted something traditional about their wedding night. Cauldron knew the rest of their relationship hadn’t been. She whispered, “Is it too much?”
Cassian swallowed hard. “Fuck, no. But as hot as it is, I want you out of it, more than I want you in it.”
She lifted a challenging brow. “Now you have to figure out how to take it all off.”
His grin was feral, but as he reached up to begin, she shook her head. “You first.”
Cassian chuckled, and shook his head. “Cruel, wicked woman.”
Nesta grinned as she sat on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other, waiting for her husband to put on a show.
He kept his eyes locked on hers as he kicked off his boots, then he slipped off his vest. Loosening his tie, one by one, he popped the buttons of his white shirt open, shucking it off and dropping it on top of the vest and her dress. He reached over his head and pulled his undershirt off and dropped it on the growing pile of clothes. When he kicked off his jeans, leaving himself in nothing but the tanned skin Nesta loved to drag her fingers over, she expected him to begin on her own remaining attire. Instead, he surprised her by bending over, picking up their discarded clothes and laying them out over the chair in the corner. She watched him, her lips parted in shock, a small smile turning up the corner of her lips.
“Did you just lay our clothes out so they wouldn’t get wrinkled?” She asked, an eyebrow raised.
“I did,” he said, turning to her and closing the distance between them. He held out his hand once more and she placed hers in his and stood, her heels long forgotten. The top of her head barely came up to his chin. “Does that turn you on?”
“You have no idea,” she breathed, leaning up and wrapping her arms around his neck.
His quiet laugh made her grin widen as he picked her up, those legs wrapping around his waist. Instead of the bed, he pressed her up against the wall, his hand running up her thigh, across the lingerie that she had so carefully picked out for him.
Nesta’s phone vibrated on the nightstand just as Cassian's lips touched hers.
He sighed, fully aware that she wouldn’t be able to focus on them before she read whatever it was. After carrying her to the side table, he looked at her phone and said, “Sloan is sound asleep, her dress is hanging up, and Elain says all as well. She also says to enjoy yourself.”
“Fine,” Nesta breathed, her arms around his neck tightening. “The baby is well taken care of, you're right. You have my full attention.”
“Do I?” He asked, quietly, his lips finding the side of her neck. He nipped at the tender skin, followed by the brush of his tongue to soothe any pain he’d caused with his teeth.
“No,” she said, that little whine slipping into her tone that meant she was getting impatient. “But you know I’ll be worrying about her the whole night.”
He chuckled, gripping her ass a little harder, kneading the flesh in his hands. “She’s always on my mind, too, but we deserve this. A night to ourselves.” His cock was between them and he ground her against him so that it was pressed against her lace covered sex. “A night without a baby monitor or a late night feeding. Just time to appreciate each other. Very, very intimately.”
“Then you’d better hurry up and get me out of this lingerie - and not in the brute way.” She added, seeing a familiar, destructive spark in his eye. “This was very expensive and I’d like to be able to wear it again.”
Cassian raised an eyebrow and asked, “Planning on having a second wedding?”
Smirking, Nesta said, “I actually planned on wearing them for our anniversaries, but if you’re objecting…”
His lips found hers and he cut her off. Cassian pulled back a hair and breathed, “No objections here.”
She groaned, leaning into his touch, into his lips as he slowly undid the hooks of her corset. She knew he was growing frustrated, knew he was becoming impatient, but that only humored her more.
Eventually, the corset came free, and even Cassian took his time, per her wishes to keep it all in good condition, removing it from her skin and placing it on the bed behind her. With gentle, calloused fingers, he ran his fingertips down her skin, starting at her collarbone, down between her breasts, down to the garter belt.
“You know,” he whispered, bringing his hand back up to cup her breasts. “We can start with that on.”
Her lips pursed into a seductive smile. “Now that you can see my tits?”
He nodded, slowly, his eyes darkening as she reached down to grip his cock.
Nesta didn’t hesitate as she dropped to her knees and stroked him slowly. The low curse that tumbled from his lips, only urged her on further and she glanced up at him as she ran her tongue along the length of him, from base to tip, and swirled it around the swollen head. His hands wove into her hair as she took him in her mouth.
He grunted, “I hope you aren’t too attached to this hairstyle.” She glanced up at at him, cock in her mouth, eyes asking the question for her. “Because I’m about to fuck it up, especially if you keep doing that.”
The words were more of a growl by the end of his sentence, when Nesta began to bob her head.
Cassian’s head fell back as he began to do what he said he would. With every bob of her head, Cassian’s fingers dove deeper into her hair, the intricate braid coming loose, the curls fading into mere waves. He breathed curse after curse, each one becoming more desperate.
Nesta watched him the entire time, through her black-painted lashes. She thrived on the ethereal expression on his face, how his brows scrunched together and his lips remained open.
“Nesta,” he growled. “Nes.”
She hummed with him inside of her mouth, which only made that low growl return.
Those fingers in her hair pulled back her head. Her lips remained, perfectly still, just around the head of his cock. Her eyes were wide, humored, as she looked up at him.
His chest was heaving.
“I love the sight of you with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed.
To say that they got to take their time with each other the last year and a half would be a complete and utter lie. Now, they would take their sweet, sweet time with one another, with no interruptions.
He could see the smile in her eyes as she gripped the back of his thighs and took him deeper and deeper, until her pink-painted lips could almost leave a print on his skin. He groaned, hunching over her and when she gagged lightly, his fingers found her chin and pulled her mouth off of him. A soft gasp for air left her as he gripped her shoulders and tossed her onto the bed.
She laughed quietly as her back hit the mattress which turned into a moan as Cassian’s mouth found her, through the sheer, white lace. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he lavished her, but when she heard a tearing and cool air on her sex. He was grinning up at her between her legs and it was very hard to stay mad at him when he was there.
“I told you to be careful,” she whispered, chest rising and falling rapidly.
He breathed, “I’ll buy you a new pair.” With a deliberate slowness, he dragged a finger between her folds and circled her clit. She whimpered and he said, “You’re already so wet for me.”
“Did you expect anything less?” She gasped, as she sprawled out on the bed, gripping the comforter between her fingers.
“No,” he replied, slowly, his thumb still moving at an agonizing pace. “I know what you like, Mrs. Nazari.”
She moaned, quietly, a hand coming to cover his as he circled her clit, ever so slowly. “What is it that I like?”
“To be teased,” he said, knowingly, cockily. “Then you like me to build it up, slowly.”
His thumb against her clit moved just a little bit faster.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she gasped and her back arched off the bed.
“Don’t move,” he said, wrapping an arm around one of her thighs. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her mound. He breathed, “Move and I’ll stop.”
Slipping her fingers into his hair, still tied at the back of his head, she chuckled, the sound husky and bedroom soft. “No, you won’t.”
“No,” he crooned, his mouth so close to where she needed him. “I won’t. But I’d appreciate it if you played along.”
With that, he ran his tongue between her folds, savoring the essence that was his wife. Her grip tightened on his hair, close to painful, and he groaned as he devoured her.
He couldn’t get enough of the taste of Nesta Archeron.
But the taste of Nesta Nazari…
His eyes fell shut as he reached down and gripped his cock, stroking in time with the flicks of his tongue.
She breathed his name, begging him, trying so very hard to stay still, but struggling. Every time she whined his name, though, it only made him hold her down tighter.
She was yanking on the strands of his hair, too, making him groan over and over again, into her pussy, the vibrations of his low voice tightening her grip.
It wasn’t until her entire body was tensed around him, beneath his hands, that her grip loosened and she came with a curse into the quiet room.
Cassian stroked her, gently with his tongue, his hand dropping from his cock as he looked up at her through dark lashes, his lips wet.
“Please,” she breathed, tugging on his hair, not in the same needy desperation as she had momentarily before, but in urgency, an urgency that he reciprocated. “Cassian, please.”
He trailed feather soft kisses up her body, pausing to pay special attention to her breasts, biting and pinching and squeezing and licking. Nesta was almost ready to come again by the time he reached her lips and was positioning himself at her entrance.
His breath was hot against her mouth, her body on fire with the need of him, the want of him.
“Please,” she whispered, a quiet plea, but he could hear her desperation.
And he mirrored it.
He didn’t bother inching his way inside, didn’t bother taking it slow. She was soaked, and he needed her.
After grabbing her hips, he pushed himself into her, all the way down to the hilt, where he stayed, his head falling back, and let himself bask in the feeling of simply being inside of her.
She did the same, the nails of one hand digging into his ass, the other his back, and she didn’t try to muffle the cry that left her as he plunged deep inside of her. He pulled out, almost all the way, and snapped his hips into hers again, the wooden frame of the bed slamming against the wall. Nesta moaned his name, every syllable, every breath urging him on and on. He repeated the motion again and again and again, one of Nesta’s hands tangled in his loose hair, the tie lost somewhere in the sheets.
Cassian cursed, low and rough, as his head fell against her chest and he pulled a peaked nipple into his mouth, and her back arched off the bed once more.
He wrapped an arm around her waist before she could fall back against the bed and gripped the headboard with the other. Nesta’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, completely at the mercy of the roll of his hips.
“I’m close,” she breathed, the words tumbling from her lips.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” The words weren’t cocky in any way, just proof that he knew Nesta’s body better than his own. He could have gotten himself to the edge, but tonight, his goal was to make Nesta feel like a goddess.
And that began with making her cum as many times as he possibly could.
“Cassian,” she pleaded, her nails digging into his skin.
He kept that pace, his rhythm, didn’t even hesitate for a second as Nesta cried out and she shattered around him, her knees shaking on both sides of his ass in the air. The noise that came out of her was something between laughter and crying, purely from joy, complete ecstasy.
Cassian slowed down, but he didn’t stop. He leaned back, watched as Nesta’s chest heaved, watched as her eyes fluttered, watched as her parted lips turned into a grin.
Her palms rested flat on his chest as he slowly pushed himself in and out of her.
When her eyes finally focused on him again, the flush high on her cheekbones, she grabbed him by the back of the head and crashed her lips into his. He groaned, hitching her leg up, and holding it against his side. She whimpered into his mouth, his thrusts rolling deeper and deeper, until she was a writhing mess beneath him again.
“Fuck, Cass, please,” she breathed, her fingers digging into his arms, rooting herself to the moment, to him, the feeling of him being inside of her.
He felt her walls begin to tighten around him, but her hand pressed against his chest, differently than it had a moment before, and he smirked knowing what she wanted. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rolled them until she was on top, body flush against his, and he just laid there for a moment, letting her take over.
He was more than willing.
Nesta was instantly comfortable, in her element, staring down at her husband as she rode him. When Cassian brought up his knees, she leaned back against them and he watched his cock disappear inside of her as she slowly bounced up and down it. Before he could do it himself,
Nesta took his hand and brought it to her sex, where he began to circle her clit, slowly.
“Tell me what you want,” she breathed, eyes bright as she rode his thick length, just a little bit faster, her breasts bouncing as she moved atop him.
He leaned up, bracing his weight on a hand as the other gripped the back of her head and kissed her with a gentleness she wasn’t expecting. He gazed in her eyes, and breathed, “I want to worship you, in every way imaginable, every night, for the rest of my life.”
Her head fell back as he let his lips drag down her neck and she breathed, “Fuck, I love you.”
His teeth found her skin and his hips met hers thrust for thrust. It wasn’t long before they were both short of breath and Nesta’s moans were filling the cabin.
Nesta only grew louder as Cassian approached his climax, holding onto her tightly, his teeth still grazing her collarbone.
And then he moaned, his own sounds filling the cabin, sounds that Nesta never grew tired of hearing. He came in her, moving her hips with his hands as he rode it out. Nesta’s breath shook as she found her release, too, and they both came to a halt, her still nestled into his lap, him still inside of her, his face buried into her neck.
Cassian waited until his breathing had evened before he leaned back and looked at her. Without a word, she brushed his damp hair out of his face, and kissed his forehead, softly.
“I love you,” he breathed, a look so vulnerable in his eyes that it made Nesta’s heart ache.
Things had not been easy after Tomas had kidnapped Nesta. There had been many nights Nesta awoke, drenched in sweat and tears, Cassian’s arms banded around her because she’d been thrashing so hard she’d almost harmed herself. Even after his death, Tomas haunted her. It was almost six months before she had been able to sleep all the way through the night.
Without Cassian, she wasn’t sure she would have survived the time after Tomas’ attack. This man was her rock, her anchor in the storm. The constant light in a world that once used to be so dark.
She whispered, “I love you too,” unwilling to shatter the silence they sat in, the only sound their shared breath.
After a moment, Cassian stood, lifting Nesta, still nestled deep inside her. He carried her into the bathroom and set her down in the large garden tub. The second he pulled out, their mixed releases spilled from between her legs. Cassian watched it, eyes still dark with lust. His cock was already growing hard again and he turned the tub faucet on and stopped the tub up. “Let me go grab you a glass of wine and a much needed glass of whiskey and when I get back, I’ll give you a massage.”
“Lemonade,” she corrected him, turning to look over her shoulder, to watch him leave.
Cassian stopped in the doorway and turned to face her with an arched brow. “Lemonade? We just got married, and you don’t want wine?”
She gave him a soft smile as she slowly shook her head. “Oh, I would love a glass of wine...but, lemonade will do.”
His surprised face turned into one of confusion, and she slowly watched, perfectly humored, as that confusion turned back into shock.
And awe.
“Really?” She hardly heard him, he spoke so quietly, hardly getting the word out.
Nesta’s nod was all he needed to start tearing up, and instead of leaving the room, he was back in the tub with her, his wife, hovering over her giddy frame as he kissed her, softly, slowly, tenderly.
In the past few years, they had been through hell and back, but every day gave them another reminder that they had conquered hell and made it out alive.
Cassian would continue to go through whatever hell life threw at him, too, as long as he went through it with Nesta, the mother of his children.
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, House of Earth and Blood, & Throne of Glass Crossover, Western AU fanfiction.
Based on a prompt sent in for the 4k follower contest {winner}, from Anonymous: “Ok hear me out: WILD WEST AU CROSSOVER”
@snelbz / @tacmc
The sun was bearing down on the back of his neck as he rode through the vast expanse of open land around him. There was nothing around for miles, save for the little town up ahead.
Rose Creek, it was called, if he remembered correctly.
Rowan Whitethorn knew how places like this operated, it was his life to blow in and out of them, never staying for long. It was always easy to leave, when no one wanted you there. Small, tight-knit communities, where an offense to someone’s family could end in a fist fight or a spray of bullets.
As always, he had a goal in mind as he rode into town, his pale grey horse throwing her head slightly. He’d visit the sheriff, see what he knew about the warrant in his coat pocket, and begin his search.
As he entered the little town, he was instantly labeled the outsider. He could tell as every set of eyes he passed watched him stroll by, suspiciously. He didn’t say a word, although he acknowledged some he passed, either meeting their hard gazes or nodding his head and tipping his hat in a respectful hello to the few women he rode by. It was early in the day yet, and he assumed most were working or tending to chores.
Although the town was small, there was a vast array of shops and the like, lining each side of the main, dusty street. After debating on whether he wanted to search for the sheriff or stop in somewhere and ask, Rowan dismounted his horse, tied him up to a post, and walked inside of the local saloon.
It was nearly empty, given the early hour, no doubt. A bartender stood behind the long counter, wiping it down, and a young girl was sweeping the hard floor, sending dust up all around her.
Rowan’s boots thumped on the wood as he made his way to the bar and leaned against it. As a measure of good faith, he removed his hat, placing it on the bar next to him, allowing the man behind the bar to see his face. He turned, cleaning a glass, and if Rowan was surprised to see the crude tattoo of barbed wire around his forehead, he didn’t show it. “Whiskey, please.”
He slid two silver coins across the wooden bar top and the man nodded. He placed the glass he’d been wiping down and reached beneath the bar, producing a bottle of amber liquid. He set it down, and Rowan poured some into the glass.
“Haven’t seen you around here before,” the bartender said, casually.
Tossing the drink back, Rowan blew out a harsh breath. “Name’s Whitethorn. I’m here looking to serve a warrant, was planning on going to the sheriff’s office, but could use some help being pointed in that direction.”
The man glanced over to the girl in the corner. “Evangeline, why don’t you go ask Emrys to make you those pastries you like?”
Her eyes went wide. “But it’s not even lunch time yet.”
He put a finger to his lips. “I won’t tell Lysandra if you don’t.”
The girl, Evangeline, Rowan gathered, hurried into the saloon’s kitchen where the sound of cooking could already be heard.
The man held out his hand. “Hunt Athalar. I own this bar.”
He grasped his hand, firmly. “Rowan.”
“Nice to meet you, Rowan,” Hunt said, and laid his palms flat on the bar, leaning down. “Hate to break it to you, but there is no sheriff. Haven’t had one in about six weeks.”
“What happened?” That was unlikely, dangerous even, in a town this far out.
Hunt shrugged, although a haunted look remained in his eyes. “Turned up dead, bullet in the head, on the outskirts of town. One of the ranchers found him about a day after, while they were out riding. No one knows who did it.”
“And you all have just been going on without a sheriff?” Rowan asked, trying to wrap his head around it, having never heard of such a thing before. He’d never heard of a town going without a sheriff for as long as six weeks. You’d think the position was cursed, and no one wanted to touch it.
“Deputy’s been watching over things since,” Hunt said, tossing a rag over his shoulder. “I’m afraid I don’t know much else, though. If you want any more details, you might want to go see the mayor. I bet he just got into his office, at this hour.”
Nodding, Rowan poured another shot into the glass and tossed it back. He nodded his head, gesturing to the stairs. “You have lodgings up there? I’ll be needing a place to stay while I’m in town. I can pay.” The silver pieces he’d laid down for the drink was proof of that enough.
Hunt shook his head, his eyes trailing over to the stairwell. “I’m afraid not. The, uh, girls entertain from upstairs, after dinner.”
A silver eyebrow rose. “You run a brothel?”
“Gods, no, I just...share a building with one.” He didn’t sound very enthused about that. “Talk to the mayor, let him know why you’re in town. He might have a couple suggestions for you.”
With a nod, Rowan stood, placing his hat back on his head and said, “Thank you for the information, Mr. Athalar. You’ve been very helpful.”
“It’s Hunt, please,” he replied. “I lost my right to common courtesy a long time ago.”
Rowan shook his head and said, “No one ever loses the right to human decency, as far as I’m concerned.”
Hunt nodded and Rowan tipped his hat before making his way back out into the morning sun. The city hall wasn’t far from the saloon, which sat smack dab in the middle of town. The founders of Rose Creek clearly had their priorities in place when they put this town together.
Leaving his horse tied up at the saloon with Hunt’s permission, Rowan walked down the dusty street to city hall. When he opened the door, he was met with an empty desk, a couch, and a set of stairs leading up to the second story. He didn’t want to surprise the man, didn’t feel like taking an accidental bullet to the heart, so he let his boots fall extra heavy on the creaking, wooden stairs. He could hear voices, both of them male, one of them far more frantic than the other.
“I’ll take anything more you can give me, Rhys, otherwise I’ll have to start burning them.”
“Calm down, it hasn’t come to that yet, and it won’t. I’ll see what I can work out.”
“Well, work it out fast, otherwise we’ll be out of graves. I’m not leaving a body out to rot in the sun and attract a coyote, not this close to town.”
Two sets of eyes were shooting in Rowan’s direction before he even knocked on the open door. The mayor, dressed in too fine of clothes for such a small town, sat behind a large oak desk. The other man was dressed in simple, dusty clothes, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“Pardon the interruption,” Rowan said, when it was clear they would say nothing. “I’m here looking for someone, hoping I can stay in town for a few days. I was wanting to talk to the sheriff, but I hear you don’t have one.”
The mayor blinked, then pushed himself up from his chair. “And your name?”
“A pleasure, Mr. Whitethorn.” The mayor smiled, and Rowan couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. “I’m Mayor Lunasa. This is Azriel.”
Azriel tipped his hat in welcome. Rowan returned the gesture.
The mayor turned toward the other gentleman. “Az, use the land bordering the Vanserra ranch if you run out of plots in town. I’ll have a talk with Beron. But try to stay as close to the town as possible.”
He nodded and slipped out, passing Rowan and heading down the stairs.
Once the door opened and closed, the mayor walked around his desk and leaned against the front of it. “Can I offer you a drink, Mr. Whitethorn?”
“No, thank you,” Rowan replied, taking that as an invitation to enter the office. “I visited Mr. Athalar when I came into town. He was the one who suggested I come see you, Mayor Lunasa, sir.”
He gestured to a small sitting area off to the side of his office. “Please, call me Rhysand. What brings you Rose Creek, Rowan?”
Removing his hat, Rowan followed Rhysand, taking a seat on the plush, upholstered couch, and said, “I’m a duly sworn warrant officer in Prythian, Terrasen, Lunathion, Adarlan, and seven other states and Indian territories. I’ve come with a warrant for a man who was said to have been in this area last.”
“And who might that be?” Rhysand asked, crossing an ankle over a leg.
“A man named Grave,” Rowan replied, retrieving the warrant from his breast pocket, handing it to Rhysand. “Known to be a brutal man. Killed a homesteader a few months back, took advantage of his wife before he gave her the same fate.”
Rhys was looking at the charcoal drawing of the man. “Well, Mr. Whitethorn-.”
“Rowan, please,” he interrupted.
Rhys nodded. “Rowan, I’ll be honest with you. I’ve seen this man, but I’m not sure he’s in the condition you’re hoping for.”
“Why’s that, sir?”
He handed the warrant back to Rowan. “Because he’s currently in a wooden box, awaiting his final home six feet deep.”
Rowan nodded. “That’s alright with me.”
Dark eyebrows rose. “But that means no reward for you.”
Another nod. “I don’t do it for the money, Mayor. I do it for justice.”
A strange look filled Rhysand’s eyes, a shade of blue Rowan wasn’t used to, nearly purple in hue. “Is that so?” He stood and made his way over to his desk. “Mr. Whitethorn, I have a proposition for you. It seems my town is in need of a sheriff. It seems like the Cauldron brought you to Rose Creek for a reason. You seem like a just man, with a good head on your shoulders.” He turned and walked back to where Rowan sat, tossing something on the table between them. “I’m out of options, Mr. Whitethorn. It’s a salaried position, and this is a fairly quiet town, but this is the West, sir.”
Rowan slowly looked down at the table, where a six-pointed badge sat.
“You want me to be the sheriff?” Rowan asked, carefully, lifting his chin as he did so. “And stay here?”
“For the time being, yes,” Rhysand said, cocking his head to the side.
Rowan wondered how he had become the mayor. He had to be young, around his own age, anyway. Young for a mayor. He thought to hang onto the question for now.
“I have to get back-.”
“We’re in need of a sheriff, Mr. Whitethorn,” Rhysand said, his voice remaining low, his eyes bright.
“Rowan,” Rowan corrected, again. “Please.”
Rhysand nodded, once. “Rowan. On top of your salary, I will give you free room and board.”
Rowan lifted a brow. “It seems you're desperate, Mayor.”
“Would it change anything if I were desperate?” Rhysand asked, humored. “You see, my people need protection, Mr. Whitethorn.”
“Rowan.”
“Of course,” Rhysand went on, waving a hand. “My people need protection, Rowan, and I feel like someone like you can provide that. The moment you want to move on, you may, but until then, you will be paid, and you will have a place to stay.”
For a moment, Rowan said nothing. He thought about it in the silence, then snatched the badge off the table.
Rhysand’s grin grew. “Very well. Your office is across the street, Sheriff.”
“And where will I be staying?” He asked, running his finger across the embossed lettering on the star.
“If you’d like, the former sheriff has a home right outside of town. He had no family, so it’s sat unoccupied since his death,” Rhysand replied.
Rowan nodded. “And my deputy? I’ve heard he’s been handling things in the sheriff’s stead?”
“Ress,” Rhysand said, standing and making his way back to his desk. Rowan could tell their conversation was coming to an end. “A good young man, he was close with the former sheriff. He was a mentor of sorts to him.”
Standing himself, Rowan put on his hat and headed for the door. “I promise to do my best, Mayor, but I’m an outsider to these people. They might not respect what I have to say.”
Sitting back down, Rhys said, “Your best is all I can ask for, but seeing that on your hip,” his eyes fell on Rowan’s Deringer at his side, “makes me feel a hell of a lot better than I have in weeks.”
Rowan nodded, tipped his hat, and was walking down the stairs.
True to Rhysand’s word, the sheriff’s office was just across the street.
He crossed the way, and ascended the creaky, wooden stairs. The door was already open, but no one was inside. At least, not where Rowan could see.
“Anyone here?” he called, his voice low. With every step he took, the floorboards creaked, and as he peeked into the back hallway, he saw a shadow from the back just as a voice replied, “Back!”
Rowan trekked down the hall, looking at the wanted posters as he passed.
In the back, just in front of the barred cells, was a young man, perhaps in his late teens, mopping the floor. As Rowan entered, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice not unkind, but tired.
“I’m Rowan Whitethorn,” he said, having a feeling he would have to introduce himself another hundred times before people began to get the hang of it. “The new sheriff.”
A breath left the kid, as if the news he had just received was some of the greatest he’d heard in some time. “I’m Ress. Current deputy.”
Rowan tipped his hat.
Ress dropped the mop in the old tin bucket with a sigh. “I wasn’t aware we we’re getting a new sheriff, but I’m pleased, it’s long overdue.”
“I’ve heard,” Rowan said, simply. “I heard you were close to the old sheriff. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Ress nodded in thanks. “It’s nice to meet you.” He looked down at the star on his chest, his own title emblazoned on the front. With a heavy sigh, he took it off and held it out to him. “Good luck.”
Rowan blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Good luck,” he repeated. “I can’t stay here. I just… I've got to leave this town, sir.”
Rowan hesitantly took the badge from his outstretched hand. Without another word, Ress stepped around Rowan, walked out of the office and mounted his horse tied up around the side. By the time, he made it out onto the small front porch, Ress was halfway down the street, heading out of town.
He blinked, staring after him and then looking down at the five-pointed star in his hand. Things just got much more complicated than he was expecting.
He sighed and turned around, walking back into the office and sitting down at his new desk.
It was plain, bland. There was no indication that anyone had been there before him. At least it was clean, no webs, no nothing. He ran his fingers across the smooth top before opening the drawers, one by one. He found a few sheets of paper and a couple empty bottles before coming across a half-empty bottle of whiskey.
With a sigh, he popped off the lid and sniffed it with a grin.
The shit was strong.
He put it to his lips, downing a good bit before leaning back in his chair and looking around his new office.
His new post.
Sheriff of a little town out west.
Ress hauling ass out of town was what unsettled Rowan the most. He understood grief after losing someone, but it seemed like there was more the young deputy wanted to get away from.
With a shake of his head, Rowan was left alone wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into.
—————
Aelin followed Aedion up the stairs of the saloon, jovial music flowing out. The sun was setting below the mountains in the distance. She could hear what sounded like a fight inside, but that was to be expected. Her cousin held the swinging door open for her and they found that their little saloon was packed full, a rowdy night ahead of their little town.
She scanned the bar, finding the eyes of her closest friend. Lysandra was, of course, perched in the lap of a well-dressed man. He already seemed three sheets to the wind, and Aelin could see that regardless the fact that they were still in the company of his friends, in the eyes of everyone in the saloon, his hand was already moving under her skirts.
She knew Aedion had seen, as well, and she gripped his arm and pulled him to the bar before he could say or do something stupid. He obeyed, though his jaw was set, and he flagged Hunt down, asking for two whiskeys.
He set them down and Aelin asked, “Where’s Ress? He’s typically halfway through a bottle of Busthead by now.”
“Left,” Hunt said, looking around at the busy saloon. “Rhys hired a new sheriff, and Ress took the opportunity to run.”
Aedion’s brows furrowed, downing his whiskey. After one last look at Lysandra, he asked, “Ran? Where?”
Hunt shrugged. “No idea, he didn’t bother to say goodbye.”
“Who is this new sheriff?” Aelin asked, hesitantly, looking around, as if she would instantly spot him and all of her questions would be answered.
“Rowan Whitethorn.” Hunt meandered a little further down the bar, topping off an elderly woman with an absurd feathered headband. “Just got into town. Met with Rhys, Rhys made him sheriff.”
Aedion looked at Aelin and didn’t like the look that had taken over her face. Her eyes were narrowed, her lips in a straight line.
“Don’t-.”
“I’m going to see Rhys,” Aelin said, already hopping off her stool. Before Aedion could protest, Aelin was already out the door, walking down to Rhysand’s office. His light was still on, Aelin could still see the gas lamp burning near his open window.
She didn’t bother to knock on the front door, rather she let herself in and was up the stairs before it had time to swing closed behind her.
Rhys’ head snapped up when she appeared in his doorway, forgetting whatever document he was looking at. “Miss Galathynius, hello.”
“I heard there’s a new sheriff.” She was breathless from the hurried walk over. “And I heard we need a new deputy.”
With a sigh, Rhysand sat down the pen in his hand. “I was afraid Ress might leave town with the position filled. I’ll have to see who I can come up with in the meantime. Cassian would-.”
“Let me,” she interrupted. “And not in the meantime. Let me be the sheriff’s deputy.”
Folding his hands on his desk, Rhys looked at her. “Aelin, are you sure that’s something you want?”
“You know I can handle myself, sir.” There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in her eyes.
“That you can,” he said, rubbing his jaw in thought. “I’ll sign it into effect tomorrow. I believe I still saw a lamp on, across the street, in the apartment above the office. I believe you’ll find Sheriff Whitethorn there, if you’d like to make an introduction, Deputy Galathynius.”
Aelin liked the sound of that. “Thank you, Mayor Lunasa.”
“Please, call me-.”
“Rhys, yeah, yeah,” Aelin said, rolling her eyes, fondly, as she picked up her skirts.
Rhysand only chuckled as Aelin inclined her head, then left. She would be the first to admit that she didn’t act like most ladies did. Sure, she was cordial, respectful, and modest, but Aelin Galathynius wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, especially to a man.
It was a well-known fact.
Aelin walked across the street, keeping her eye on the lamp that burned in the apartment above the sheriff's office. She didn’t bother announcing her entrance as she swept through the front door. At first, she went toward the stairs in the back, but then she noticed the sloshing noise and took a turn, where a tall, broad-shouldered man was on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the floor with an old rag.
He must’ve been in the zone, because he hadn’t heard her answer.
“What are you doing?”
He froze, slowly looking over his shoulder at Aelin. His hat was off, his sleeves rolled up, his silver hair a sweaty mess.
“Cleaning up blood that I did not spill,” he replied, voice gruff. “Can I help you?”
Aelin lifted her chin. “I’m your new deputy.”
He blinked. “Excuse me, miss?”
“You are Sheriff Whitethorn, correct?” He nodded. “Then I’m your deputy. Mayor Lunasa has already made it official. All I lack is my badge, sir.”
Dropping the blood-soaked, dirty rag into the bucket, Rowan stood up to his full height, and Aelin had to tilt her head up to look into his face. “Miss, I don’t know what Rhysand told you but-.”
“My name is Aelin Galathynius, Sheriff Whitethorn, and I’d prefer you use it over miss, ma’am, or any of the other bullshit men call me.”
He blinked, completely taken off guard. “Pardon?”
“I can tell what you’re thinking, sir.”
Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle, although the light didn’t reach his eyes. “And what is that, Aelin Galathynius?”
The way he said her name only pissed her off more.
“That I have no business being a deputy because I’m a woman,” Aelin snapped. “Which, I protest, considering there is no logical reasoning for it. Yes, I am a woman, and yes, I am perfectly capable of being an outstanding deputy.”
“With all due respect,” Rowan began, without missing a beat, “there is no way you can do this job well wearing...that.” His eyes travelled over her dress, her heeled boots, and her exquisite hat. “Besides, your hair is pristine, and whatever that is on your face. You wouldn’t want to mess it up, doing whatever must be done any given day in this line of work.”
Aelin took pride in her appearance, but she also took pride in her skill.
“I have the best shot in this town,” Aelin said, hands on her hips. “And, with all due respect, the mayor has already granted my wish, and you have no say in the matter.”
“We’ll see about that,” Rowan said, seething.
Aelin lifted up her skirt, and Rowan averted his eyes, although her undergarments remained perfectly hidden as she took her gun out of the holster on her thigh.
Rowan stilled. “What are you doing?”
“Proving a point,” she said, chin raised. “Give me a target.”
“I’m not going to-.”
She pointed the gun into the front room, pulled the trigger and Rowan heard glass shattering.
“Are you insane?” He cried, running to the front of the office. “You can’t shoot out the damn windows! You could-.”
She followed him after holstering her gun at her thigh and fluffing out her skirts. He was staring, wide eyed at his desk, covered in whiskey. The bottle was intact, but the shot glass that had been filled with amber liquid next to it…
It no longer existed.
He heard her heeled boots coming up behind him and as she stepped around him, she grabbed the five-pointed badge lying on the corner of his desk.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Sheriff, and don’t worry,” she said, looming over her shoulder. “I’ll make sure I don’t look so pristine.”
_________
Nesta was running late, but she was so tired that she really didn’t care.
She would be punished for something, anyway, it may as well have been for another twenty minutes of freedom. After slipping on her boots and pushing open the door, Nesta came to a halt.
Elain was bent over her flower bed, clipping lilies.
“I thought you would be in town already,” Nesta said, shutting the front door behind her.
Elain stood up, a handful of lilies in her arms. “Azriel buried another man today. I was going to go decorate the tombless patch of dirt.”
Nesta looked out at the horizon. “It’s getting dark, El. You shouldn’t be going to the graveyard alone at dark.” Or, anywhere at dark, alone.
“I’m not, Azriel will be here shortly to go with me,” she assured her older sister.
Nesta nodded, descending the stairs. “Be careful. I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.”
“I won’t,” Elain said, although she always did.
Giving her sister one more glance, she wrapped her shawl tighter around herself and hurried into town, hoping she could make it before Maeve realized she was late. She knew there was no chance, was sure she was already watching the door from her booth. It made her pick up her pace, just a little more.
A horse whinnied from up ahead and she glanced up to see Cassian Nazari dismounting from his horse, outside of the saloon. He was walking up the stairs, and Nesta breathed a sigh of relief, as she thought she wouldn’t have to deal with his longing glances tonight. But then he stopped.
As if he could feel her gaze, he turned to look at her, and Nesta’s steps slowed until she was standing in the middle of the dusty road. She stood there, waiting for him to enter the saloon. He stood, waiting for her to come closer, but he didn’t. She wouldn’t until he was inside, so she wouldn’t have to listen to his pleas.
Nesta wasn’t stuck in Maeve’s servitude like many of her girls. Nesta was there to keep Elain from her clutches, knowing she’d do something ensnare her.
It made every day hell on earth, but Nesta would continue to do it, would continue to enslave herself, if it meant keeping Elain safe. Elain didn’t have the heart for such a life, wouldn’t be able to bear it.
Cassian’s eyes slowly fell to his feet before he continued his walk inside of the saloon, where he disappeared. A sudden pang of disappointment settled into the pit of Nesta’s stomach, even though he went in without her, which was exactly what she had wanted.
As she entered, she avoided Cassian’s stare from the bar as she swept inside. She also avoided Maeve’s glare, but she didn’t make it far.
“Nesta.”
Nesta stopped as she approached the wooden staircase and slowly turned around.
Maeve sat in her booth, staring daggers at Nesta from where she sat. Nesta kept her chin held high as she approached the booth.
She didn’t say a word.
“You are late,” Maeve said, quietly. “Which costs me money.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied. She knew there was no point in apologizing or giving excuses. Maeve wouldn’t listen and they were likely to piss her off more. “I’ll be dressed and find a client in just a few moments.”
“You’ve already got a client,” Maeve replied, putting a cigarette to her lips and lighting a match. The tip of the cigarette glowed red, just like her painted lips. “Mr. Mandray has paid handsomely for your time, and you will be in his service for two hours. Now go. There’s cosmetics in your room. Use them, you have bags under your eyes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nesta repeated, and was hurrying up the stairs.
Nesta didn’t live in the brothel above the saloon, not like some of the less fortunate girls. No, when their father had passed unexpectedly last winter, the house and land they lived on was already paid in full.
As she reached her door, the one across the hall opened and Nesta found Bryce Quinlar pulling her own shut. Her hair was a mess and the cosmetics she wore were smeared. She wore only a corset, thigh highs and her boots. She was bare from the waist down. Their eyes connected and Nesta quickly pulled a handkerchief from the bag she carried.
“Here.” She wiped the wayward makeup from her face and did her best to make her look presentable. She knew what walk she was about to have to make, they’d all had to do it from time to time.
The smile was sad, but it was a smile as she breathed, “Thank you.”
As Nesta entered her room to get ready for her own client, Bryce stood at the top of the stairs, trying to calm her shallow breathing.
Her room was lavish.
Maeve always made sure of it, that their rooms were beautiful, exquisite even. It was their reward for doing her dirty work, night after night.
They were forced to sell their bodies, but at least they had silk sheets.
At the vanity on the far wall was the cosmetics that Maeve had so lovingly suggested that she used. She did, primping herself to perfection. After she figured she looked beautiful enough, she stripped out of her street dress and exchanged her old, ratty corset for the one that Maeve had paid for, the one that the clients liked. She rolled her stockings up to her thighs, then slipped on her boots, lacing them up before she sat on the edge of the bed, posing, waiting.
She tried not to think of what Bryce was currently enduring downstairs. For whatever it was worth, she sent whatever power she could to her imprisoned sister on the floor below.
A sudden knock came to the door, and Nesta tried not to jump. At least, she tried to erase the tense hold in her shoulders as the door swung open, and Tomas Mandray swept in, shutting the door behind him.
His bleary eyes were instantly on her, hungry.
Nesta pushed down the need to puke as she lifted her chin and whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
The night had only just begun.
—————
Bryce was on her third client and it wasn’t even eight-thirty. She was exhausted, but she wasn’t about to show it, wasn’t about to exact Maeve’s wrath upon herself.
The man lying on the bed beneath her was old enough to be her father, possibly even her grandfather. She couldn’t remember his name, nor did she want to, but she remembered what Maeve had murmured in her ear before she sat her on his lap in the saloon.
He’s paid a premium for you. What he wants, he gets.
Usually that meant she was going to be spit on or defiled in some way. But sometimes, that meant he wanted to humiliate her. The dark gleam in this man’s eyes told her early in the evening that she needed to shut her mind down, to take herself to that place inside of her head that could numb her.
“Get off.” The man gripped her hips and shoved her off of him. “Go get me a drink.” She nodded and climbed off the bed, reaching for her skirts-. “No.”
Bryce turned to look at him, hoping he didn’t see the pleading in her eyes.
“Leave them off.”
A silent nod and she was out the door.
The kindness Nesta Archeron offered her was more than she deserved and after cleaning her up a bit, Bryce was walking down the stairs, cool air hitting her in places she wished it never would.
Every eye was on her as she descended the stairs, some in pity, some hunger, some judgement. She tried not to look at any of them, most of all Maeve, who looked proud of the good little whore she’d become.
She paid attention to no one, nothing, until she was at the bar, but when she met the eyes of Hunt Athalar, he was shaking, seething.
“Don’t, please,” she breathed, barely a whisper. She and Hunt had had the same conversation a million times, and she was so tired, it just wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worth the repetitiveness, not anymore.
“He doesn’t even have the decency to let you dress?” he snapped, his voice low, looking around, giving anyone looking at her a death-glare.
In a dreadful, monotone voice, Bryce answered, “He isn’t finished yet.”
Hunt’s jaw hardened. “Bryce-.”
“Whiskey.”
“Bryce,” he tried, again, unmoving. “Let me give you my jacket, something-.”
“Whiskey,” she repeated, trying to keep that part of her shut down, those emotions that longed for the man behind the bar, the yearning that brewed so passionately beneath the surface.
With weary eyes he fetched a half-empty bottle of whiskey and handed it to her. As she reached for it, he wrapped his hand around hers, not caring who saw.
“I’ve almost got enough,” he whispered, leaning over the bar, closer to her. She could smell the bourbon on his breath, could see the desperate plea in his eyes.
She glanced around, making sure Maeve couldn’t see them, seeing if anyone was watching. “It will never be enough, Hunt, she’ll always-.”
“I don’t give a shit. One day, we’re leaving this piece of shit town behind. You and me.”
Before she could let herself believe him, before she could let herself hope or dream or even feel, she swallowed hard and hurried away, back up the stairs, back to her own personal hell.
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
The Ranch Masterlist
Two weeks after Nesta was discharged from the hospital, Cassian found himself waking up to the sun peeking through the master bedroom of the main house, the scent of bacon filling the air. After blinking a few times to clear his vision, he propped himself up on his elbows to find the other side of the king-sized bed empty, as well as the little bassinet he made that sat on the floor. With a fond shake of his head, his loose hair swinging in all different directions, he put his feet onto the hardwood floor and began his trek through the house.
He followed the delicious smell into the kitchen, where Sloan was laying in a bouncy seat, calm and happy as could be, only a few feet away from where Nesta stood in front of the stove.
“You should’ve woken me up,” Cassian mumbled, walking up behind Nesta and pressing a soft kiss to her neck before wrapping his arms around her waist. “We talked about you taking it easy for a few weeks.”
She leaned back into his body with a small smile. “It’s been a few weeks. I need to cook. And I need to eat something other than your delicious spaghetti and sandwiches.”
She turned around to meet him with a kiss on the lips before he said, “Hey, my spaghetti and sandwiches are delicious.”
Nesta just snorted and pushed against his chest, then Cassian was down on his knees on the hard floor to peek down at his baby girl. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Her dark-blue eyes were wide as she looked up at her daddy but then they roamed around the room again. In the past two weeks, Sloan had been a fairly quiet baby. She loved to look around at her surroundings, to stare up at faces, especially their family, and each time she saw something new, her eyes lit up.
Cassian leaned in and looked closely at her. With a raised eyebrow, he said, “Ooh, Nes, it looks like her eyes are changing.”
Nesta didn’t look away from the skillet. “I’m aware. I carried her for nine months, I went through literal hell and back and gave birth to her squatting over a towel, with no drugs, just for her to come out and look just like you.”
The bitterness in her voice was clearly sarcastic, and Cassian chuckled. “Her eyes could change for up to six months. She could end up with Uncle Rhysie’s eyes for all we know.”
“If that happened, I’m sure you’d have questions,” Nesta mumbled, and Cassian’s grin widened as he unbuckled Sloan from the bouncy seat and slipped her out, cradling her in his arms.
Nesta watched as he rounded the island and pulled out a kitchen chair. Once he was sitting, his feet propped up on the chair across from him, he got his face close to Sloan’s and whispered, “I love you.”
Sloan’s lips fell open as she looked up with wide eyes at Cassian. For a moment, the kitchen remained silent as the two stared at one another, Nesta staring at them. Since she gave birth, Nesta had been overly emotional - which was to be expected, but it had Cassian tip-toeing around her sensitive feelings. So when he heard her sniffle from her place in front of the stovetop, he tensed, before slowly breaking his gaze with Sloan’s and finding Nesta’s.
“I’m okay,” she said, voice breaking, turning off the burners. “Bacon?”
Cassian chuckled, watching her with soft eyes as she took a piece of crunchy bacon off the plate, already cooled off, next to the stove and took a bite. “I wish you’d come relax, Nes.”
She shook her head, and before Cassian could get up to make himself a plate, she was already walking toward him, a plate in each hand. She set one down in front of him before rounding the table and sitting down across from him, digging into her bacon, eggs, and avocado toast.
“Tell me to relax one more time and see where it gets you,” she said, raising a brow.
Cassian only shook his head while holding Sloan in one arm, and using the other to pick at his plate.
“By the way, everyone’s coming over for dinner tonight,” Nesta continued.
Cassian paused and looked around at the kitchen. It was a disaster, similar to the rest of the house. Balancing a newborn and daily chores wasn’t as easy as they’d been hoping, but they also weren’t expecting Nesta’s recovery to be as intense. Life had thrown them a curveball and they were taking it day by day.
But this house could not be cleaned in a day.
Before Cassian could protest, Nesta said, “Az will be over to help at two-thirty when I start cooking and little miss will hang out with mommy while daddy and Uncle Az clean.” Her sentence started out normal but had descended into baby talk by the end.
“You’re cooking?” Cassian asked, blinking. “For six people? Nesta-.”
“Don’t tell me to relax,” she sang, and when she caught Cassian’s uncertain expression, she sighed. “I’m not going crazy, it’s just a simple meal.”
Cassian continued to stare at her.
“I promise,” she added.
Cassian didn’t like it, but only because it worried him. “Fine, but also promise me that at the first sign of you feeling tired or achy or whatever, you sit and call for me, so I can help.”
“Promise,” she said, although the light in her eyes told him that she would do no such thing.
He narrowed his own eyes at her. “Why are we having dinner here? Can’t we have dinner at Rhys and Feyre’s place? They didn’t just have a baby.”
“Because,” Nesta said, taking Sloan from her daddy. “I want to cook. I miss cooking. I miss my sisters and they want to watch Az and Rhys melt into a puddle when they hold the most perfect baby in existence.”
Cassian chuckled and picked his plate up, practically inhaling the meal. Nesta was heading for the laundry room when she heard him groan. “Okay, you win. Better than my spaghetti and sandwiches, for sure.”
After he finished scooping up the last few crumbs, he was doing the dishes, begging Nesta to rest until Azriel showed up later.
She agreed, but she wasn’t happy about it. She took Sloan to the couch to keep her company while she folded a basket of laundry, then turned on bad reality television, which she quickly fell asleep to.
Cassian snorted when he saw her sprawled out on the couch, snoring quietly.
He scooped a yawning Sloan up and sat with her in the recliner, rocking back and forth until she was also put to sleep by the sounds of shitty reality TV. Meanwhile, Cassian quickly became addicted to the real housewives of something or another.
__
When Nesta’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing she noticed was how rested she felt. She stretched and snuggled back into her pillows.
Then she realized she was back in her bed.
Nesta sat up, looking around. “Cass?” Their bedroom door was cracked and Beau was laying on the foot of the bed, but Sloan wasn’t in her bassinet. She glanced over at the clock.
Nesta had never gotten out of bed so quickly in her life.
Pulling her mother’s old robe on, she hurried downstairs and-.
She froze halfway down the stairs and called, “Cassian?”
“Kitchen!”
She cautiously walked down the rest of the stairs and around the corner.
Cassian was standing at the island, while Sloan drooled on his chest where she was strapped into the carrier, fast asleep. Nesta looked around the kitchen, turned back to the living room, and looked back at Cassian.
The house was spotless.
He blinked at her surprise. “Your mouth is hanging open. Not very ladylike.”
She was too shocked to respond to his sarcasm. “The house looks amazing.”
He shrugged. “I know how to clean, apparently.”
“Where’s Azriel?”
“Found your ingredients list,” Cassian said, gesturing to the grocery list on the fridge. “I assumed it was for your simple dinner but you were missing a few things, so he ran up to the market a second to get them for you.”
Nestas brows shot up nearly into her hairline. “You let me sleep.”
“Yes,” he continued, popping an apple slice into his mouth. Sloan stirred against his chest, but quickly went limp again, her cheek squished up against his skin, her little lips hanging open. Cassian chuckled. “Oh, by the way, Sloan’s a fan of the carrier.”
“I see that,” Nesta said, still surprised.
The back door swung open and Azriel stepped in with a paper bag filled with food from the market. He saw Nesta and smiled, softly, before kissing her cheek. “Good morning. Or, afternoon. Whatever. How are you feeling?” After setting the bag on the counter, he walked around the island to peek at his niece, who he kissed on the forehead.
“What? I don’t get one?” Cassian asked, obviously feeling left out of Azriel’s affections.
He just rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the counter and looked at Nesta.
“Really good, actually,” she said. “Pretty well rested.”
“Good,” he smiled, and Nesta was so damn happy they had someone like Az in their life. He’d been their saving grace in more ways than one over the past year, and she wouldn’t ever be able to thank him enough for loving Elain as completely as he did. “I’ve got to pick a few things up before dinner, shower, shave, all that fun stuff. Is it cool if I…?”
Nesta laughed and said, “Of course, we’ll see you later. Call if you need anything.”
With a nervous smile, he was out the back doorway and Cassian was looking at Nesta with narrowed eyes.
She crossed her arms and asked, “What?”
He took a bite of another apple. “You’re meddling.”
“I’ve never meddled,” she said, simply.
“Liar,” he crooned, starting to bounce as Sloan stirred, once again. “You're- ow! Shit!”
Sloan had her mouth pressed against Cassian’s skin, just above his chest, sucking against it, hoping to find milk and only getting frustrated.
“She’s like a tiny, fucking vacuum, what the hell,” Cassian muttered, pulling her off, only to have her start crying. He took her out of the carrier and gently handed her over to Nesta.
Nesta cradled her in her arm and unlatched her nursing cami, helping Sloan latch as she said, “Yeah, now you know how my tits feel.”
Cassian crowned, rubbing at the pained spot on his skin. “Your poor nipples.”
Nesta rolled her eyes as she laughed quietly, Sloan finally satisfied as her tummy filled with milk.
Cassian began taking what Azriel had bought out of the bag and pulling it away. “What else needs to be done before your big night of hosting a family dinner?”
Nesta held Sloan close to her as she opened up a cabinet and pulled out a giant skillet. “Well, seeing how you let me sleep in and now it’s getting late….you, my love, are helping me cook. Welcome to the life of a chef's assistant. You’re my sous-chef of the night.”
Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh….yay…”
She tossed him an apron, which he caught effortlessly and stared at for an extended period of time.
“Shit, you’re serious?” He asked, watching as she retrieved everything she’d need to prep from under counters, out of cabinets, and from the pantry, all with only one arm while Sloan made happy noises as she fed.
“I am.” She set a box of lasagna noodles on the island and grabbed ground beef and Italian sausage from the refrigerator. “Earn your keep, Nazari.”
Cassian learned that when he had the proper instructions, or a cute baby strapped to his chest to entertain him, he really enjoyed cooking. Or it may have been that every time Nesta reached up into a cabinet or bent down to look into the oven, her robe rode up and he got a glimpse of her ass.
He was a little bitter that she wouldn’t let him taste anything, though. Every time he reached for a nibble, his hand got slapped away.
And it smelled so damn good.
Hours later, Sloan was sleeping soundly in her swing and Cassian was sneaking into the bathroom, the water already running and steamy as Nesta’s shadow moved from behind the curtain. After kicking off his sweatpants, he climbed into the shower behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Her body shook with quiet laughter. “And what do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving time,” he mumbled, moving her wet hair aside and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Imagining all the things i’m gonna do to you when we can have sex again.”
“Ah, my fiancé, father of my child, the romantic,” Nesta crooned, before turning around to wrap her arms around his neck. Her eyes opened wide. “Speaking of, where is she?” She leaned around him and moved the shower curtain aside, trying to peek out.
“She is safe and sound, sleeping and just generally being all around perfect. And in case she wakes up,” he said, already seeing the question in her eyes. “The baby monitor is by the sink.”
She was looking at him with pursed lips, her head tilting slightly to the left. “And you burped her after I fed her?
He nodded, leaning closer. “Mhmm.”
Nesta was looking up at him, lips parted. “And you checked her diaper?”
“I even changed it,” he breathed, his lips brushing against hers. “Father of the Year, I know.”
She chuckled. “Fuck the six week rule,” she said, her quiet voice full of sarcasm. “I need you right now.”
Regardless of the fact that Nesta was right and they both knew they were still a full month away from sex, Cassian kissed her until she was breathless. Gods, he wanted to touch her breasts, but knew how sore they’d become from Sloan.
After a minute of soft, slow kisses, Nesta pushed Cassian’s back against the cool wall and he pulled his lips from hers. “We can’t, Nes-.”
“They said I can’t. They didn’t say anything about you,” she said with a smirk.
“You need to rest,” he muttered, but then she kissed his chest and cupped his balls, making him forget his protests.
She sunk down to her knees before him, taking his hardening cock into her hands and pumping, slowly, before sliding her tongue over the tip and taking him wholly into her mouth.
His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back against the tiled wall, and he wasn’t even ashamed that he didn’t last long, because the feeling of her mouth sliding over such sensitive skin, of his long fingers tangled into her soaked hair, of the quiet moans that vibrated against his cock, for his pleasure alone, had every bone inside of him completely and utterly on fire.
“Sweetheart,” he breathed, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I’m about to cum.”
His warning was less of a heads up and more of an it’s happening right now thing.
With a groan, he bucked his hips once, and filled her mouth.
She didn’t hesitate, only stayed perfectly still, drinking him in, eyes locked on his, helping him ride it out with a slow, deep bob of her head.
Cassian’s body relaxed as he ran his hands through his hair, Nesta’s lips trailing kisses up his abdomen, then his neck, and his own lips as he caught his breath.
“Now bathe,” she whispered, patting his chest. “Everyone arrives in an hour.”
She left with nothing more, but Cassian peeked out of the curtain and watched her dry off before she disappeared into the bedroom.
__
“You love Aunt Feyre the most, don't you? Yes, you do.”
Sloan’s wide-eyed stare roved over Feyre’s face and then around the room.
“I think it’s too early to say who her favorite is,” Elain said, from where she sat on Azriel’s lap. She was just bitter that both times she’d held Sloan tonight, the baby had ended up crying and had to be given to either Cassian or Nesta.
Feyre rolled her eyes, and said, still in a high-pitched, baby-talk voice, “That's bullshit. Yes it is.”
Nesta laughed and shook her head and Elain’s pursed lips.
Cassian, having taken way too long to get ready and came down dressed five minutes after everyone had gotten there, now swept into the living room holding a plate of appetizers that he’d scolded Nesta for making.
Even though he’d helped her.
Every time she wasn’t taking it easy, she got Cassian’s evil eye.
Except for when she was down on her knees in the shower.
He hadn’t complained then.
“When are you gonna knock Feyre up?” Cassian asked, flicking Rhysand on the back of the head. “Apparently she’s good with babies.”
“It’s a work in progress,” he said with a smirk.
“Rhys!” Elain said, blush high on her cheeks.
He laughed and Feyre chuckled and said, “I mean, he’s not wrong.”
Nesta’s eyebrows rose. “You’re trying to have a baby?”
They glanced at one another, softly smiling, and Feyre looked back down at Sloan. Rhys said, “I wouldn’t say we’re trying, it’s more that we’re not not trying.”
“Hell yeah, give Sloan a cousin,” Cassian said, setting the plate down and taking his squirming daughter. He immediately dissolved into baby-talk, which happened every time he held his daughter, something that never failed to make Nesta melt. “Babies are the best. Especially when they’re perfect like you.”
“Stop, or I’m gonna want you to knock me up all over again,” she crooned, leaning over the back of the couch to wrap her arms around his body and kissing the top of his head.
“Don’t tempt me,” he shot back, still in his baby talk voice.
“We’re all sitting right here,” Azriel awkwardly sang, eyeing the new parents.
Nesta laughed, quietly, wandering to an armchair on the opposite side of the couch. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get married first before we think of having more babies. Besides, Sloan was a miracle baby, so who knows if we’ll even have any more.”
“If we don’t, that’ll be okay, too,” Cassian added, eyes soft.
“Yeah,” Nesta agreed, watching him with their daughter. “It’ll be perfect, either way.”
“Oh my gods,” Elain breathed, fanning her eyes. “Stop or you’ll make me cry. Y’all are so sweet.”
“Yeah, so sweet that you’re going to make me puke,” Rhys said, standing. “Let’s eat.”
Nesta just sighed and said “Y’all go sit down, I’ll have it right out.” Nesta knew Cassian would immediately offer to help, so she said, “Rhys, will you give me a hand?”
“Sure thing,” he said, not hesitating as she headed in the direction of the kitchen.
They walked through the door and Rhys took a deep breath. “Cassian told me he helped and I refuse to believe he could make something that smells this good.”
She laughed and said, “He did actually. Though I think he was more of a distraction than Sloan was.” She turned back towards him when she reached the island. “I have an ulterior motive for bringing you in here.”
Rhysand’s eyebrows raised. He warily said, “Okay?”
“When I pull Feyre up to the nursery after dinner, I need you to convince Cass to leave Az and Elain alone together for a few minutes.”
Understanding lit up his face. “For real?”
She nodded, smiling. “For real.”
Rhysand was terrible at keeping secrets. Not because he said a word about it, but because he was practically bouncing in his seat for the entirety of their meal. Feyre kept looking at him, concerned, asking if he was feeling okay.
Nesta just kept shaking her head, apologizing silently to Azriel that she’d asked Rhysand for the minor part in his grand plan.
After dinner, where everybody asked for seconds and not a crumb was leftover, their party made their way back into the living room. Wine was provided, and everyone but Nesta, who was breastfeeding, indulged themselves.
Which was ironic, considering Nesta picked out and paid for the fancy variety that lined the coffee table.
Feyre whistled as she popped to top to a sweet red and filled herself a glass. “You really went all out, Nes.”
“I only get the best for my family,” she said, unable to help her gaze slowly trail to Azriel, where he was plopped back on the couch, Elain in his lap, once again.
They talked and laughed and just enjoyed each other’s presence. It had been a long few weeks, understandably so, and the six of them had had so little time all together. “Nesta?”
She looked up from where Sloan was silently staring up at the ceiling in wonder. The baby loved the mobile hanging above her head, but she adored ceiling fans. Cassian was planning to put one in her nursery when he had a spare moment to breathe. Feyre was looking at her with concern on her face. “Are you...okay?”
For a minute, Nesta wasn’t sitting on a comfortable couch, fiancé’s arm around her. No she was in a rigid wooden chair, rope wrapped over and around her. The skin on her wrists was going to be permanently scarred from how hard she’d tried to break free, and that same panicked fear she’d felt filled her veins. Cassian’s arms tightened around her and she didn’t have to look up at him to know he was giving her as much of his strength as he could. Nesta’s eyes flicked back down to Sloan, who was gazing at her now. The love she felt for the sweet baby girl in her arms was overwhelming most days. She didn’t know it was possible to love someone so much. She took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am. I’m just...still processing, I think.” She looked up at Cassian who was looking down at her with the same sad look in his eyes.
“I can imagine,” Elain breathed.
No one really knew what to say other than what had already been said in the recent weeks. For a moment, they dwelled in a comfortable silence, Cassian drawing small circles with his fingers on her arm. Nesta didn’t know how long it would take to process what had happened to her. She wasn’t sure if she would ever fully process it. What had happened to her had been a nightmare, to say the least, but as she looked back down at Sloan, she realized she would do it all over again if it meant that Sloan was born happy and healthy and safe.
The nightmare she was forced to go through would linger, but it would not ruin the outcome, would not take away from the gift she’d been given.
Her daughter.
Her miracle baby.
Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of Nesta’s head and then took Sloan, who brightened up as soon as she was in her father’s arms.
Elain was tearing up as she watched the precious scene, holding Azriel’s hand on her lap. His eyes flicked to Nesta and she saw the smallest inclination of his head. Nesta said, “Feyre, can I show you something I was thinking of adding to the walls in Sloan’s room?”
“Of course,” Feyre said, grabbing her wine glass and standing.
Elain said, “I wanna see,” and moved to stand, but Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist.
Rhysand asked Cassian, “Did you ever draw up plans for the new stables?”
Cass said, “Oh, shit, yeah, they’re in the kitchen on the island. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“That was weird,” Feyre whispered, as she followed Nesta up the stairs. “Why are-.”
“Hush,” Nesta snapped, quietly, and took Feyre’s hand to make her move quicker, until they disappeared. They didn’t make it to the nursery, though. Behind the wall, they stood, perfectly quiet, and listened.
__
After everyone left the living room, all at once, Elain’s narrowed gaze slowly turned to Azriel, who was already watching her, adoringly.
“Is there a reason our entire family just hauled themselves out of here?” Elain whispered, laughing quietly.
Azriel’s scarred fingers brushed her curled hair back behind her ears, and he licked his lips, slowly. ”I wanted a moment alone with you.”
Elain rolled her eyes, fondly. “We live together, Az, we’re always alone.”
“Maybe so,” he agreed, eyes bright, “but, this way, everyone will be here to celebrate.”
“Celebrate?” she asked, smile faltering as confused furrowed her brows.
Azriel just nodded, and gently moved her off of his lap before he stood up. Elain’s eyes widened as he got down on one knee in front of her, and took her trembling hands into his.
“Az,” she breathed, tears already forming in her eyes.
He smiled, not a glimmer of nervousness in his hazel eyes, but gods, they were so full of love. “Elain, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you, and I’ll love you until I close my eyes and take my last breath. Everything that our family has gone through has shown me how much you mean to me, how much I don’t want to lose you. So…” He chuckled and pulled a dark blue ring box from the pocket of his jeans. “I guess it’s time for me to make you an honest woman. Elain Archeron, will you marry me?”
Quiet laughter shook her entire body as she sat up straighter, tears flowing down her cheeks, and said, “Of course.”
He opened the box and she was greeted with a large, pear-shaped diamond seated upon a thin, silver band. With shaky hands, Azriel took it out, and slid it onto her finger. Thanks to Nesta’s nosiness, the ring fit her finger perfectly.
Once it was secured, Elain practically tackled Azriel to the ground, and when his back was against the rug, her slender body pressed against his, she kissed him, softly, and he knew her tears were only tears of joy, but he reached up to brush them away, nonetheless.
“I love you,” he breathed.
“I love you, too,” she promised. “Oh, Az, I’m so happy. It’s about time you asked.”
Azriel stilled, and blinked, but it only made Elain’s laughter flutter around him, and it was the most beautiful, joyous sound he’d ever heard.
“Can we come out now?” Feyre called, from where she’d disappeared with Nesta beyond the top of the stairs.
Elain laughed. “You knew?”
Feyre was down the stairs nearly before Elain had time to blink and she embraced her sister. “No, you know I would have told you. I wouldn’t have been able to keep it from you.”
Elain leaned back, looking from Feyre to Az. “Then who-?”
Nesta was just stepping back through the living room doorway when Elain breathed, “Nes, you did all this? For me?”
“For both of you,” she corrected, and just as she was about to say something sweet, Cassian was storming in from the kitchen, staring at Azriel with narrowed eyes.
“You didn’t tell me?”
Azriel just shook his head from where he still sat on the carpet, leaning back on his hands. “Cass, I love you, but you can’t keep a secret.”
“I can too,” he said, then looked to Nesta for confirmation.
“Yeah, no,” she began, hesitantly, making Rhysand laugh from behind him. “You can’t keep a secret.”
Then, Cassian’s eyes widened. “Fuck, you kept it a secret from me, too. That’s double betrayal. How rude.”
Nesta whispered something into his ear that had his disgruntled look turning into a wide, sly grin. “Fair enough. I’m holding you up to that promise, though.”
Nesta snorted. “Oh, I know.” When she looked back to Elain, she was looking at all of them, taking all of them in, taking in this moment, this milestone, surrounded by her family.
__
Nesta held the baby monitor close to her body as she sat by Cassian on the couch, bundled up beneath a blanket as a fire roared from inside the fireplace, a movie on the television. Rhysand and Feyre were bundled up on the floor, the latter having far too many glasses of wine and nearly about to fall asleep on her husband’s chest.
Elain and Azriel were in heaven, staring deeply into each other’s eyes as they cuddled together in the lazyboy.
When Nesta looked up at Cassian, he was already watching her, fondly. He gently took the baby monitor from her hand and turned it all the way up before putting it on the table beside him and pulling Nesta into his lap. He rubbed her back, softly, as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“You look happy,” Cassian whispered.
Nesta wanted to laugh. It was such a simple, unprofound statement, and yet it was so true that it made her heart ache.
Yes, she was happy.
A little lost, a little paranoid, but those were just thoughts in the back of her mind that she prayed would fade with time.
She couldn’t deny her happiness, though, the wholeness that she had found in this little town that she wanted so desperately to get away from all those years ago. She had lived her dream, had toured the world and cooked for the rich and famous. She had owned her own restaurants, had been wildly successful for such a young woman.
But she had never been happy.
Here, though? With her sisters, with Cassian, with Sloan...she was so fucking happy.
A soft little whine came through the baby monitor, and Nesta’s body instantly tensed.
“It’s okay,” Cassian breathed. “I’ll get her.”
After kissing Nesta on the forehead, he was heading up the stairs, and although Nesta tried not to, she followed him soon after. As she rounded the top of the stairs and made her way down the hall, she could hear Cassian’s soft, soothing voice comforting their newborn. And when she stopped at the nursery and leaned against the threshold, she found herself tearing up.
Cassian was such a natural.
He held her close to his chest, bouncing her, patting her back gently until her cries subsided and her eyelids fell shut, once again.
“Just needed her daddy?” Nesta whispered, wiping at her face.
Cassian looked over his shoulder at his fiancée and chuckled. “Maybe so. Maybe she just needs a bedtime story.”
“A bedtime story?” Nesta repeated. “And what will be her bedtime story tonight?”
“Hmm,” Cassian began, walking in small, slow circles around the rug with his baby girl. “She really likes the one about the handsome ranch hand and the stuck up city girl who thinks she’s hot shit.”
Nesta had to cover her mouth from laughing so it wouldn’t wake Sloan. “Wow, sounds a little intense for a newborn.”
“She gets the abridged version,” he said with a smile.
Nesta couldn’t help herself as she stepped further into the room, smoothing the dark hair back off Sloan’s forehead. She loved the moments like this, when she was able to stop and appreciate her daughter’s beauty, Cassian’s love, the outpouring of support from her sisters.
He reached out with his free hand and brushed away the tears that had fallen down Nesta’s cheeks. He didn’t say anything, just smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. After swaddling Sloan back into her blanket, Cassian turned, wrapping his arms around Nesta and kissed her gently.
Her eyes were closed, but she sniffled, resting her forehead against his chest. “Thank you,” she breathed.
His arms tightened and he chuckled. He asked quietly, “For what?”
“For giving me the life I never let myself dream of.”
Cassian took her face into his hands and leaned back, only to press his lips against hers, softly. “Get used to this life, cause this is what the rest of your life is going to look like, Nesta Archeron.”
“Good,” she breathed, unable to help the smile that graced her lips. “Although, you’ll have to get used to calling me Nesta Nazari, soon.”
Cassian arched a brow. “Does this mean the wedding planning is starting?”
“Yes,” she said, leaning up on her toes to kiss him, gently.
“Good,” he said, repeating her statement.
They stayed like that for a long moment, as the night went on, in each other’s arms, saying nothing but breathing in every second. Sloan was sound asleep in her crib beside them, their family was downstairs, and Nesta and Cassian had the rest of their lives ahead of them.
Nesta meant what she said.
Cassian had given her a life she’d never dreamt of.
This wonderful, beautiful life that she was pretty sure she didn’t deserve, but never wanted to be without.
For the first time in her life, Nesta Archeron was perfectly happy with the life she was living, and she never wanted anything more.
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
The Ranch Masterlist
Nesta awoke with a gasp, her hands instinctively reaching for her baby, for her precious, baby girl.
But her arms were tied behind her back.
She looked around, trying to figure out where she was, what time it was, if she recognized anything. And she thought she must be dreaming.
Because she was in the little house on the neighboring property. In Armand and Collette’s home. She could see the sun getting ready to rise over the hills.
She was alone, no one else in sight, but it was obvious who was behind it all. She instantly began crying, silently, knowing who was behind it all, knowing that Cassian was raising hell trying to find her in her absence.
“Hello?” She called.
But there was nothing. No response, no footsteps, nothing.
Nesta tried breaking out of her bonds, but there was no use, they were too tight. The infant within her womb moved, and Nesta let loose a breath of relief. If nothing else, baby girl was okay.
She regretted ever letting Tomas into her life, regretted letting him know anything about her, including that damned property.
She tried to stop the sob that tore from her, but she feared, not for herself, but for her daughter. She didn’t know who to pray to, didn’t know if she should scream or cry or start saying her last rights.
“Tomas, please,” she finally called. “Just let me go and I promise I won’t do anything. I won’t say anything, just…” She sobbed again. “Please don’t hurt my baby.”
The silence was almost worse than if he would have responded.
After a few minutes of no response, a wholly new fear washed over Nesta. Tomas wasn’t here. Yes, he would be coming back, he was the only one, aside from Cassian who knew this house belonged to her. But he wasn’t here and she didn’t know when he’d be back.
Nesta knew it wouldn’t do anything, knew that no one was around to hear her, but she was unable to stop herself as she threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs.
——
Azriel was awake at four-thirty like he was every day. He’d made some calls the night before, arranged for some contacts he knew in the ranching community to come take care of Cassian and Nesta’s place, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting up early for a reason.
He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Elain, and got ready, before making his way downstairs. He found Cassian standing at the kitchen island, a mug of black coffee on his left side, a glass of whiskey on his right.
“I can’t decide which to drink,” he breathed, and Az had never heard his brother’s voice so empty.
“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to find her.”
Cass swallowed hard, but nodded. Azriel pulled him into a hug and Cassian didn’t try to hide the tears that ran down his cheeks as he embraced his brother. Their family had always been there for each other, lending strength when the other needed it.
They just never imagined they’d need it so desperately.
After a minute, Cass decided on drinking both, tossing the whiskey back and leaning back against the island as he drank his coffee. “Rhys is on his way. He’s been awake since three.”
Azriel looked at the digital clock over the stove and raised an eyebrow. “What’s he been doing to just now be on the way?”
He knew the likely answer involved Feyre, but he couldn’t imagine that they’d be focusing on that at a time like this.
“Same as me,” Cassian said, reaching into the back of his waistband, pulling out the warm metal and removing the magazine before he set the gun on the counter. “Making sure that if we see him, he won’t get away this time.”
Azriel hesitated. Yes, he wanted to make sure Nesta and the baby were safe. It was all he could think about. But what Cassian wanted so desperately to do would only make the situation worse.
“Cass-.”
“No,” he said, voice low. “I know what you’re going to say, so save your breath. When I see him, he’s a fucking dead man.”
“He’ll be locked up, Cass. She’ll be safe, the baby will be safe, you don’t have to-.”
“He fucking took her!” Cassian yelled, his voice echoing throughout the house. Azriel didn’t say a word, wasn’t surprised by his brother’s anger, his frustration. “He deserves a lot worse than a few years behind bars, Az!”
“Yeah, he does,” Azriel said, quietly. “But, so do you, and if you shoot him and he dies, there’s a real good chance you’ll miss quite a bit of your daughter's life.”
Cassian’s jaw locked and he looked away as another tear fell from his hazel eyes.
“Stay armed,” Azriel said. “Use it in self-defense, if it comes to it, but use it wisely. Not out of anger.”
The stairs creaked from the other room and the two men fell quiet as Elain stepped around the corner. Her eyes were red, her cheeks still wet. There wasn’t a jealous bone in Azriel’s body as she walked to Cassian and wrapped her arms around him.
His large frame crumbled in a way Azriel hadn’t seen in years, hadn’t seen since they were children and his mother had died. Regardless of Elain’s arms holding him, his knees hit the floor and he was unable to stop the full-body sob that tore from him. He could hear Elain’s quiet sobs, too, could see her back shaking.
Without a word, Azriel stepped out into the crisp, early day and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his truck. He didn’t smoke anymore, had quit years ago, but his nerves were shot and he needed something to take the edge off. He sat down on the porch and lit it, taking a drag in and blowing it out. He wasn’t sure where the smoke stopped and his breath in the cold air began.
A black truck rumbled down the street and parked behind his own and when Rhys jumped out, Azriel could still see that same anger from last night simmering in his violet eyes. When they saw Az though, they guttered slightly. “I thought you quit.”
He put the cigarette back to his lips and pulled. “Figured no one would care if I made an exception today.”
Rhys nodded and made to step around his brother, but Azriel caught his hoodie sleeve. “Just...give them a minute.”
Rhys looked to the door, knowing what he meant. He inclined his head to the truck, where Az could see a head of golden brown hair in the front seat. “Feyre is… She’s a fucking mess.”
“Elain did well, for most of the night,” Azriel admitted, ashing his cigarette. “But just a few minutes ago, she came downstairs and Cass was awake…”
Rhys nodded, sitting next to Az. They were pissed. They were scared. But the fear that the two of them felt was nothing to that of Cassian, Elain, and Feyre.
“I don’t need to have the gun talk with you, too, right?” Az asked, glancing down to where Rhys’ pistol was holstered at his side, and flicked the cigarette butt into the flower bed. Elain would be pissed at him for that, but he’d deal with that later.
“No,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “I’m not an idiot. I told him I was bringing my gun, just in case. He gave me the same shit about giving Mandray what he deserves that I’m sure he gave you.”
Azriel nodded, eyes weary. “He’s never been able to control his anger on the little things, much less…”
Rhysand just nodded in understanding as he checked the time. “I say if the cops don’t call us back with any news in the next thirty minutes, we just go searching alone.”
“I say we go now,” Azriel agreed, then gestured over his shoulder to the house. “As soon as they’re ready.”
Cassian must’ve sensed it, because he appeared in the doorway a minute later, Elain at his heels, zipping up her hoodie.
Azriel stood, and they all stood in silence for a few seconds before Cassian, without saying a word, padded down the front steps and into the cool, eerie, early morning.
————
Nesta wasn’t sure at what point she’d passed out. She wasn’t sure if she’d passed out while she’d be screaming or if it was while she was sobbing or praying or she’d just fallen asleep while she waited and waited for the end.
Whether that was the end of this ordeal or the end of her life or the end of her baby’s, she didn’t know.
She wasn’t sure what had woken her either. Her baby was moving, but no more or less than normal, and she didn’t hear anyone else in the cottage with her.
But as she slowly blinked, trying to pull herself back into consciousness, she felt an ache from within her abdomen.
Nesta sat up, pulling on her restraints as she softly gasped and tried to resituate to stop the throbbing from inside her. But then she heard the soft dripping and felt the wetness beneath her.
Trying to keep her breathing even, Nesta glanced down at herself, down at the floor. She couldn’t even try to convince herself that she’d wet herself, she knew exactly what was happening, especially as a sharp pain from inside took her breath away.
“No, no, no,” she cried, looking around, for something, anything, whatever she could use or do to get herself free, get herself out of here.
Because her water had broken.
Nesta was in labor.
And her baby was coming.
She began to panic, so much more than she had before. She would not give birth in such a hellhole. That damned place would not be the first place her baby sees.
Once again, she tried to break those bonds, but nothing worked. She screamed and screamed and screamed until her voice became raw, broken.
She sobbed.
She called for Cassian.
She prayed to whoever was listening that it would all be over soon.
But it didn’t matter.
She was completely, utterly alone.
A distant pain in her abdomen came again, and although it wasn’t bad, she knew it to be a contraction.
A door slammed from somewhere in the house and everything inside her went stil, even the precious life trying so hard to enter the world. She breathed, “No, gods, please no…”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs from the garage and the door behind her opened.
“Look at that,” he crooned, the voice raising the hair on the back of her neck. “Either you pissed yourself or you’re about to have our little girl.”
Our little girl.
“You’re insane,” she gasped, another contraction made her look at the clock above the mantle.
He stepped around until he was looking down at her.
The brutal gash along his face was red and angry, the stitches still fresh. She knew the wound she’d given him on the arm was likely in the same shape. He clearly hadn’t gone to a hospital, the stitches weren’t nearly as neat as they should have been. No, Nesta knew who owed Tomas a favor from years ago, a favor that she’d hoped Tomas had forgotten about.
“I hope you didn’t pull Isaac Hale into this,” she breathed. “He’s a good man, a good vet.”
Tomas head tilted to the side, his eyes showing just how unhinged he’d become. “Would he be as good of a vet if I hadn’t driven his little girlfriend to the clinic in Adriata to have that abortion all those years ago? How’s Claire doing anyways?”
Nesta spit in his face.
She shouldn’t have been surprised when his hand cracked against her cheek. She cried out and he gripped her face in his hand. “How long have you been in labor?”
“Fuck off, Tomas,” she growled, trying to pull from him. He just squeezed tighter.
“When did your water break, Nes?”
The nickname, so familiar, sounded wrong coming from him. She looked back to the clock. “I don’t know. When I woke up, I was having contractions.”
He tilted her head back so she was looking at him. “And that was what? An hour ago, two hours ago?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Forty-eight minutes ago.”
He smiled and it was the most terrifying thing Nesta had ever seen. “Good girl.” He turned and headed behind her into the kitchen. She could hear him opening and closing drawers as he said, “To answer my own question from earlier, by the way, Claire’s doing great. Did you know she’s a nurse?” Nesta felt her blood go cold. “She’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. Turns out she owed me that favor, too.”
She was dreaming.
She had to be.
This was absurd, insane, and no possible way it could be her current reality. No, she had to be dreaming, dreaming of her paranoia, dreaming of ghosts from the past.
And yet, as that pain in her abdomen came again, increased, she knew that this was very much real.
“When Cassian finds me, he’ll kill you,” she breathed, her tears still streaming down her face, silently. “He’ll put a bullet in your head and he won’t hesitate.”
“You always did like threats,” Tomas crooned from where he stood behind the kitchen wall. She couldn't imagine what he was digging around for, didn’t want to know. “Too bad I never took you seriously. Didn’t then, don’t now. I’m not afraid of Cassian Nazari.”
You should be, she wanted to hiss, but remained silent. Instead, she caught herself wondering where her fiancé was, and when the fuck he would find her.
Because he had to.
She couldn’t go out like this.
Their baby couldn’t come into the world like this.
In Tomas’ absence, she closed her eyes and took deep, calming breaths. Stressing and panic would only speed up the process of labor, and she wanted to string it out as long as possible. As difficult as it was, for her daughter’s sake, she did her breathing exercises to the best of her ability. With her eyes closed, she imagined Cassian’s face smiling brightly at her from across the pasture, on horseback.
She imagined him painting the nursery, imagined him picking up the little baby shoes Nesta had bought and tearing up at the sight of them. She imagined the way he looked when he made love to her, imagined his voice whispering those three little words that set her soul on fire every time they came from his beautiful lips.
Tomas began to hum from the other room, the sound the most ominous thing Nesta had ever heard. It only became worse as he came back into the living room, softly singing the words.
Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.
Nesta couldn’t stop the sob, couldn’t stop the tears that fell as she opened her eyes and looked at what he was holding in his hands. Towels. Handfuls and handfuls of towels.
And if that mockingbird don’t sing, daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.
He gripped Nesta’s arm and pulled her engagement ring from her finger. She sobbed, unable to stop him as he walked away, screaming at him to stop. His steps softened as he headed into the kitchen and the garbage disposal turned on.
And then she heard the sound of metal on metal, grinding and snapping.
“What the fuck do you want Tomas?” she cried, the pain in her stomach increasing with every wave. “Please, just let me go. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you. You know I have money, I can-.”
He appeared in front of her again, for just long enough that she anticipated the stinging against her cheek this time, she just wasn’t expecting to taste blood. “Are you trying to put a price on our relationship, Nesta? After everything I’ve done for us?”
A door opened down the hall, from the direction of the front door and a small voice said, “Hello? It- It’s Claire.”
Tomas’ smile turned Nesta’s blood to ice. “It’s time to meet our daughter.”
____
Cassian had asked everyone in town.
No one had seen Nesta.
Or Tomas.
It made no sense. They had to be somewhere, there were only so many places to go in this little town. Even then, no one had even seen Tomas’ truck, which means they most likely hadn’t left town.
At least, that’s what Cassian kept telling himself.
It was nearing noon and they had been at it, their little group split up all over town, for over six hours. He’d looked everywhere. Even the places he thought were impossible for him to be hiding, he’d looked. The others had, too, desperately. Azriel, Rhys, Feyre, and Elain. And yet, absolutely nothing.
The feeling of hopelessness that had settled into the pit of his stomach was overwhelming.
Once he made it back to the ranch, Cassian figured maybe he was thinking about it a little too hard. The main house was empty of guests now, as he and Nesta had made it their home for their baby, which means they had hardly spent any time in the little houses out back. But when he inspected the cabin and the little modern house at the end of the dirt path, there was no sign of them.
Beau had been with him all day, helping him search for Nesta. With his keen sense of smell, Cassian knew he’d be helpful. With no luck, though, Beau spent most of the day whining at Nesta’s absence, fully aware that something had gone horribly wrong.
His phone rang and it was out of his pocket and held up to his ear before the end of the first ring. “Hello?”
“Isaac Hale gave a horse named Mandrake sixty-two stitches this morning.” He couldn’t recognize the voice on the other side of the phone.
He looked at the number, seeing it had come in from a blocked number. He frantically asked, “Who is this?”
“Mandrake,” the voice said slowly. “Sixty-two stitches.”
“I don’t understand-.”
The line went dead.
His phone rang again, but it was Rhys this time. “Hello?”
“Any luck?” He asked, voice empty, but hopeful.
He sighed, “No, but I just got the weirdest phone call.”
“About Isaac Hale giving some random horse stitches?” Rhys asked.
Cassian froze mid-stride. “Mandrake?”
“No,” Rhys breathed. “Dos More.”
Cassian’s phone began to vibrate in his hand. He looked at his phone and saw that Azriel was calling him. He told Rhys, “I think we need to pay Isaac Hale a visit. Now.”
________
Claire was sniffling as she unpacked the bag of medical supplies she’d raided from Isaac’s veterinary office that morning.
Nesta breathed, tugging on the restraints holding her to the bed, terrified for Tomas to hear her, “Claire, please. Get me out of here.”
Her eyes wouldn’t meet Nesta’s as she whispered, “I can’t, he’s- Nesta, he’ll kill me. He’ll kill Isaac.”
Nesta opened her mouth to reply, but she gasped as the most excruciating of all her contractions so far took her breath away.
She felt hands on the waistband of her leggings, still covered in Tomas’ blood and soaked from her water breaking, and tried to jerk away. “No!”
Claire said, “I need to check and see what you’re dilated to. You’ve been in labor for hours and if I don’t make sure she’s sitting right, she could suffocate.”
Nesta’s face paled and she saw a moment of hesitance on Claire’s face as she glanced over her shoulder, hearing Tomas’ footsteps head towards the garage, then the door opened and closed.
He was leaving again. She didn’t know why, but he was leaving.
“Please, we need to run,” Nesta begged, knowing this could be their only shot.
Claire began tugging her leggings down. “Nesta, if we leave right now, you will bleed out in the woods. There is nothing around this place for miles.”
“My ranch,” she breathed. “My ranch shares a property line, we can make it.”
Claire pulled a pair of gloves on and came around to her side, pressing a hand against her belly and checking her cervix. “No, we can’t,” she said, a worried look on her face. “You’re about at a seven. You’re going to have to start pushing soon.”
Nesta sobbed, and she didn’t care what she looked like, what she sounded like. All that shit was long gone.
All she cared about now was her baby girl.
And making sure Tomas Mandray would pay.
“Claire,” she whispered.
Claire froze, although she didn’t meet Nesta’s gaze.
“Just…” Nesta began, her sobs shaking her body. “Just make sure she’s okay, alright? Make sure Cassian takes care of her, okay?”
Tears were flowing freely down Claire’s cheeks. “Nesta-.”
“If I die, if I don’t make it out of this,” Nesta cried, quietly, “make sure Cassian gets her, please.”
She knew it was a request that Claire probably couldn’t fulfill, but she nodded, nonetheless. “I will. I’m so sorry, Nesta.”
“I know,” Nesta breathed, and Claire took Nesta’s hand, and they sat still for a moment in the silence. She couldn’t stop the scream that tore from her as another contraction, much stronger and much sooner than she was expecting hit her. Claire’s eyes jumped from Nesta’s to their clasped hands, where Nesta was bound to the bed. “Please,” she whispered, seeing the thought in Claire’s eyes. “Please, I won’t run. I’ll stay here. Just please…” Nesta didn’t bother to try and stop the sob. “Don’t make me have my baby tied to the bed. At least give me that.”
Claire hesitated for only a second more before she quickly loosened the knots around Nesta’s wrists.
Nesta sat up a bit, pulling her knees up, and putting her weight into her hands. She felt like she needed to hold her breath, but knew she shouldn’t. She was trying to remember anything and everything she’d learned in that stupid birthing class they’d gone to.
“Do you feel like you need to push?” Claire asked. Nesta had her eyes closed, but she was focusing hard on her breathing. She nodded. Claire said, “Nesta.” She opened her eyes and looked at her, not trying to mask the fear on her face. “That means it's time to push.”
--------
Cassian pushed through the glass doors of Isaac’s Veterinary clinic, locking eyes with the man himself at the front desk. His skin went deathly white the moment he saw Cassian, which confirmed that they needed to have a conversation.
“Where is she,” he hissed, voice low, the moment he reached the desk.
Isaac looked around, even though there was no one else in the small reception area with him. “Cassian-.”
“Where. Is. She.” He repeated, gripping Isaac’s collar.
Isaac just shook his head. “He’s got Claire, and he’s dangerous, Cass-.”
“If you don’t tell me what you know, I’ll smash your head against this desk and I won’t feel bad about it,” Cassian snapped.
Isaac's eyes grew weary. “Please-.”
“She’s carrying my child,” Cassian said, his voice breaking.
Cassian could see the internal conflict going on through Isaac’s eyes. For a moment, Cassian thought he’d have to torture the poor veterinarian, the young man that they’d known their entire lives, but then, in the quietest of voices, Isaac said, “She’s on your land. In a little beaten down cabin.”
She’s on your land.
The cottage.
She had been right there, and he’d never even thought about it. Of course Tomas knew about the cabin, but he probably assumed Cassian didn’t.
Fuck.
He didn’t even realize he’d said the word aloud, much less yelled it until one of the patients across the room looked in their direction.
Cassian was halfway out the door when Isaac called his name. He turned back, seeing a broken man. He repeated, “He’s got Claire, too. Get her, please.”
Cassian nodded once and was out the door.
Rhys and Azriel were waiting in Rhys’ truck, Elain and Feyre with them. Feyre scooted into the middle seat as Cassian climbed back into the passenger side. “Home, go the fuck home.”
“What?” Rhys asked, violet eyes wide. “What do you-?”
Cassian was already dialing the number of the detective that had been assigned to their case. “Those French people she knew, the property next door.”
All four of them stared at her. She hadn’t told them. She hadn’t told her fucking famliy about the people she’d met, the bond she grew with them.
Which means they had no fucking clue where the cottage was.
“Just drive to the fucking ranch!” he yelled, putting the phone to his ear, his hands shaking, his mind whirling.
Rhysand didn’t hesitate as he put the truck in reverse and pulled out of the parking space.
The ride was quiet, and even though it was only a five minute drive, Cassian felt like it took a lifetime. All that time, she was so close. He felt like a horrible person, not even thinking about her being right next door.
“Drive faster,” Cassian hissed.
“I’m driving as fast as I can without running us off the road,” Rhysand snapped.
Tensions were high.
They were so close, now.
They just had to get to her.
“Go past our drive,” Cass said, pointing ahead. “Just go straight to theirs.”
Rhys did as he was told, but Feyre said, “Cass, I can’t think of any other driveway on this road. It just dead ends at the river.”
He knew that was the case, but he had no idea how to figure out where it was.
Actually, he could think of one.
“Get to the house,” he breathed. “We have to catch the horses.”
-------------
The pain was so all consuming, so absolutely mind numbing, that Nesta wasn’t sure how the world managed to repopulate as long as it did before modern medicine and epidurals. She screamed, holding onto the footboard while Claire crouched, her hands held out beneath her.
“You’re almost there, Nesta,” she said, keeping her voice calm, even. It was clear that she was in her element, even in the situation they were currently in. “I need you to take a deep breath, let it out and push one more time.”
She nodded and did as she was told, for what felt like the thousandth time, and ended up sobbing again.
She cried, “I can’t. I can’t anymore.”
It had been nearly an hour since she started pushing, and though Claire was keeping herself collected, she urged Nesta, “You have to push, she’s almost here, Nes. I can see her head, She can’t stay where she is.”
Nesta shook her head, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, her tear stained cheeks. She needed Cassian, she needed her rock. But he wasn’t here, couldn’t be here.
Claire gave her a couple more seconds to breathe and said, “Come on, squat back down, and give me one more big, push, the biggest one you’ve got in you, okay?”
Nesta closed her eyes, thinking of Cassian as she breathed in and out, trying to calm herself. She took a deep breath in and braced down as hard as she could. She could feel her nails splitting against the wooden bed frame.
The world went silent for a moment. Her eyes were shut, but all she could see was bright, white light, all she could feel was warmth and comfort and peace. Nesta wondered if she might be dead, if she’d somehow gotten lucky in all of this and spared from Tomas' cruelty.
But then the most amazing sound she’d ever heard had her opening her eyes, bringing her back to the real world.
She heard her baby crying.
Nesta was crying, too. And Claire, even as she held the screaming infant in a bloody towel, had tears streaming down her face.
She cut the umbilical cord, helping Nesta back on the bed.
She handed Nesta her daughter, as well as a clean, wet towel, and said, “Lie back, I have to stitch you up.”
She did as she was told, trying not to think about what was happening as she carefully cleaned her baby’s face up. “Hello, beautiful girl,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry your daddy’s not here to meet you. He’ll be here soon.”
Her voice was becoming weaker and weaker and Claire said, “Nesta, I need you to keep talking to me. You have to stay awake, okay? Everything went awesome, better than some of the births I do every day in the hospital, but I need you to stay awake.”
She nodded, trying to do as she was told.
When Claire finished, she helped Nesta into what could only be described as a glorified adult diaper, pulling the oversized hoodie she wore over it, and helped her lay back on the bed. “I’m going to get her cleaned up,” she said, holding her arms out for the baby.
Nesta’s arms tightened around her daughter, suddenly afraid to trust Claire.
“I promise, I’m just going to clean her off and I’ll bring her right back.” Nesta could see the sincerity in Claire’s eyes, at least she hoped she did as she handed her daughter to her.
Claire hurried out of the room and Nesta heard the sink in the bathroom turn on. The water ran for a solid three or four minutes before it turned off and she returned, the baby wrapped in a soft, white sheet.
She handed the baby back to Nesta, sitting on the bed at her feet. “What’s her name?”
“Sloan,” she breathed, gazing down at the perfect little thing she had somehow managed to bring into the world. “Ilsa Sloan Nazari.”
The tuft of dark hair on her head, it was the same color as Cassian’s, just as her skin was the same rich tan. But when Nesta brushed a finger over her soft cheek, and her eyes fluttered open, those were her own stormy eyes surrounded in dark, long lashes.
They could hear heavy, quick footsteps coming up from the garage and Nesta’s arms tightened around her daughter. Claire stood, turning and standing between Nesta and the hall. When the door finally burst open, Tomas was on his phone, yelling at someone, but Nesta couldn’t figure out who. He’d left the door to the garage open as he hurried up to the second floor of the cottage, going to get the gods knew what.
“Claire,” Nesta said, tears already running down her cheeks. She turned and Nesta was already pressing Sloan into her arms. “You promised. Get out, get to the woods, and run away from the setting sun. You’ll get to my property. Just get her to her father, please.”
Claire was already shaking her head before Nesta finished speaking, but she clutched the baby to her chest. “Nesta, no, I can’t-.
“You can, and you promised,” Nesta said, her voice breaking as she began to sob again. “Get her out of here. I don’t care what he does to me, just go before he comes back.”
For a brief moment, Nesta was worried she wouldn’t honor her earlier word, but then she was off, sprinting out the open door to the garage. Nesta got to her feet, hissing in pain and limped to the window. Claire came from around the side of the house she couldn’t see, but she watched as she ran as fast as she could into the wood, away from the sun, just like Nesta said, and disappeared into the trees. She couldn’t stop the whimper of relief that left her, but she clamped a hand over her mouth as she remembered he was back in the house.
With a deep breath, she crept along the wall and left the room, making her way into the hallway and then out into the open living room. She could still hear Tomas screaming into his phone and she took that as a sign that he was preoccupied. Though it made her vision blur, Nesta hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the tool that had served her well many times before and had served her well enough the night before.
Nesta had come to terms earlier in the day with the fact that her life was most likely going to end tonight, but that didn’t mean she would go out without a fight.
------
Cassian and Rhys were riding as fast as they could through the trees. He knew nothing about the cottage, not where it sat on the property or how big it was, just that Nesta had said she’d always ridden west. So they followed the sun. They rode for what felt like hours but could only have been minutes before Rhys called, “Who the fuck is that?”
But Cassian knew, gods, he immediately knew. He was off his horse before he’d even stopped, calling her name. “Claire!”
She looked towards his voice and the sob that left her could be heard the quarter mile that separated them. He sprinted towards her, slowing down when he noticed the small bundle in her arms. He froze. “No.”
Rhys appeared by his side, and he breathed, “Tell me she’s not holding a fucking baby.”
Cass was moving again and he caught Claire as she met them, crying.
The little bundle in her arms began to cry, too, as Cassian took his daughter into his arms.
“She begged me to take her,” Claire sobbed. “Tomas threatened me, so I delivered the baby, and Nesta asked me to bring her to you.”
Her words were hardly understandable, but Cassian was frozen in place, staring down at the baby in his arms.
She was so incredibly beautiful.
His mind couldn’t fully comprehend that Nesta had just had a baby while being held captive. He couldn’t.
He looked up to Claire, tears streaming down his face as he asked, in a numb, deadly calm. “Are we close?”
Claire looked over her shoulder, then back to Cassian and Rhysand, and nodded. “There’s a small clearing in about half a mile.”
Claire went on to tell him how dangerous Tomas was, but he wasn’t listening. He kissed Sloan on her soft, tanned forehead, and handed her to Rhysand. “Bring her back to the house. Wait there with Feyre, Az and Elain. Take Claire, too.”
Rhysand carefully took Sloan and cradled her against his chest.
Then Cassian mounted his horse and continued west.
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
The Ranch Masterlist
When Tomas descended the stairs, the first thing he noticed is that the house was quiet. No gasping breaths, no groans of pain, no screams of agony from a natural birth. There was also no baby crying.
The sun was almost gone, the last rays of its light just behind the tree line. The house was already becoming dark.
“Nesta?” He called, his voice crooning. “Are you okay, love?”
There was no reply. The chair she’d been in was still in the middle of the living room, rope still looped around the back. But the bedroom, the room where she was supposed to be giving birth…
Tomas flipped the light switch on. It was a bloody mess. Towels on the floor, the bed, the chair in the corner. There was blood and moisture and some mucus-y looking substance on the rug he didn’t want to look at for too long.
But it was empty.
He turned heading for the kitchen, knowing she couldn’t have gotten far, not with how much blood was-.
He screamed as white hot pain lanced down his arm, the same arm that was covered in stitches from the night before.
Before Nesta could bring the knife back down, Tomas had grabbed her wrist.
“That wasn’t very nice,” he seethed. He got right in her face. “Where is she?”
“Safe,” was all Nesta said.
Her legs were wobbling, surely about to collapse. Beads of sweat coated her pale skin. Unsure of what she was actually trying to accomplish - as if she could accomplish anything in her current state - Tomas let out a breathy laugh.
“Let’s get you back to bed, my love,” he whispered, bringing his fingers up to graze her cheek. “You need rest, or you could die.”
“If that’s the alternative to a life with you, so be it,” she hissed, but the words, the tone, even cost her a great amount of energy.
Tomas clicked his tongue. “You always were so dramatic.”
She tried to jerk her wrist away, but it was pointless. Instead, he tightened his hand around her wrist until a soft sob shook Nesta’s body.
“Let’s get you back in bed,” he repeated, his voice low.
“I’m not dropping the knife,” she said, voice shaking. She could hardly keep herself upright. “You’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”
With a roll of his eyes, Tomas was reaching up to take the weapon away. Although weak and in a mass amount of pain, it seemed she believed what she said, because her grip around the hilt of the knife was tight.
One by one, he pried her fingers from the wooden hilt, and when there was only one more clinging to it, she struck.
He hadn’t noticed the small, thin paring knife in her right hand when he’d seen her. No, he was too focused on the large chef’s knife in her left hand.
She jammed the small blade up into his abdomen and he released her with a cry. The chef’s knife fell to the floor and she moved away from him as quickly as she could, a whimper of pain the only sign of her discomfort.
“You fucking bitch.” The voice was much closer than she expected and suddenly she was jerked backwards by her loose hair. She cried out as her scalp was on fire and then his arms were around her, caging her in. “Where is she, Nes, huh? Where’d you hide her?”
“I didn’t hide her. She’s far, far away,” she bite out. “She’s gone, she’s safe and you’ll never get your hands on her.”
She felt his arms tighten. “Is that a challenge, love?” he breathed in her ear. “We’re going to be a family and you know it.”
“I hate you,” she hissed. “I fucking hate you.”
“Let’s get you back to bed,” he said, once again, his words clipped.
His arms began to tighten even more, a vice to cage her where she stood, but then from outside, a horse whinnied.
For a split second, Tomas’ grip slacked, but the instant Nesta’s mouth shot open to cry out, his hand was over her mouth, muffling her screams.
She tried to scream, praying it was Cassian that was just outside, but failed. Instead, with one arm tightened over her abdomen and the other covering her mouth, Tomas dragged Nesta to the corner and peered through the window, hiding beside it. The back of Nesta’s head was against his chest.
She couldn’t see a thing.
Her attempts to scream continued as Tomas’ blood stained the back of her sweatshirt. He jerked her back again, fingers digging into her scalp, and she grew dizzier as he hissed into her ear, “Shut. The fuck. Up.”
But she had heard it, had heard the yell of a man that would tear apart the world to find what had been taken from him.
“NES!”
The sob that tore from her was weak, she knew she wouldn’t be on her feet much longer, but she had to make what time she had count.
He had her head jerked to the side, but she could still feel his breath on the side of her face. She couldn’t brace herself and she knew it would hurt her as much as it hurt him, but without warning, she threw her head back and slammed it into his.
The sound of Tomas’ skull bouncing off the wall was something she would remember for the rest of her days, but the new ache in her head made her sick to her stomach. It didn’t help when Tomas shoved her away from him, causing her to stumble. Her forehead smacked into the window and blood trickled down her forehead as she tried to crawl away.
The chef’s knife was still on the floor of the living room, the small knife she’d hidden long gone. Nesta could hear the doors shaking as Cassian tried to force his way into the cottage and she turned to glance at Tomas behind her. He was slowly getting to his feet and Nesta saw the black handle of a gun sticking out from the waistband of his jeans. Her heart stopped beating in her chest.
He wouldn’t use the gun on her, he wanted her alive. He had no such reservations about Cassian.
Nesta got to her feet, ran for the living room and grabbed the knife. Tomas looked over as she did so, blood dripping down his lips from his nose. She felt a smug satisfaction at the injury her blow had caused, but when he started advancing on her, she froze.
The sound of a door bursting open had Tomas turning towards the noise and Nesta knew she wouldn’t have another opportunity.
With what little strength she had left, she rushed towards him and he glanced down at her, right as she shoved the large knife into his side. His eyes went wide.
The small grunt that left Tomas’ mouth was the last sound he made before he collapsed.
He didn’t move again.
Thundering footsteps had Nesta on red alert, knowing she had nothing left to defend herself with, but then Cassian appeared around the corner. The whimper was pathetic, she hated herself for the sound, but she was unable to stop it as her knees buckled and she collapsed in the pooling blood, sobbing uncontrollably.
Cassian didn’t hesitate.
He hurried to her side, on his knees in the crimson pool, scooping her up into his arms. Her head instantly fell against his chest as her eyes drooped, his heart beating rapidly.
“I’m here,” he breathed, sobbed, holding her head against his chest. “Fuck, you’re burning up, sweetheart. Keep your eyes open, okay? Keep them open, baby, please.”
He cried into her hair, and she wanted so desperately to cling to him, to tell him how much she loved him, but she didn’t have the energy. All she could manage was, “Sloan?”
“Safe,” he promised, his voice breaking as he rose to his feet, her in his arms. “Beautiful.”
The faintest of smiles touched her lips as her eyes fluttered shut. Cassian carried her out of the cabin and down the porch steps, but she didn’t know what happened after that.
She drifted into a dark, deep sleep.
___
Nesta had no idea how much time had passed before she woke up with a dry, scratchy throat, hooked up to a series of beeping machines.
For a moment, she began to panic, but then her vision cleared and she knew she was far away from Tomas, as the memories came back to her.
She had killed him.
He deserved it.
She was safe.
But where was Sloan?
She attempted to sit up, to find her baby, to find Cass, but she grew lightheaded and fell back into the pillows with a groan.
She began to cry, quietly, but then she heard her name and knew he was there.
“Nes.”
She opened her eyes and found Cassian sitting on the edge of the cot, Sloan sleeping soundly in his broad arms. His cheeks were blotchy, his eyes red and puffy. A shaky hand reached up, his knuckles trailing gently down her cheek.
She didn’t say anything, nothing had to be said as she grabbed his hand where it brushed against her face and brought it to her lips.
The single tear that ran down Cassian’s cheek told her what he couldn’t.
She gazed down at their daughter, at the perfect combination of the two of them. She hadn’t been able to take the time to look at her when she was born, she was too focused on shoving her into Claire’s arms and begging her to run. But now that she could see her, that she could appreciate her, Nesta began to softly cry once again.
Cassian carefully laid her in her mother’s arms and Nesta wasn’t able to stop herself from leaning down and pressing the softest of kisses to her forehead. She had her father’s coloring, from the tan skin, to the thick, dark hair on her head. But Nesta knew when she woke up, she’d find her own stormy eyes gazing back at her. Sloan had inherited her full lips and she couldn’t tell whose nose she’d gotten because her eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
Nesta looked up, blinking the tears away and found Cassian staring at Sloan, his cheeks wet. “Cass, you couldn’t-.”
“He took you, Nes.” His words were deathly soft. “He came into our home and he took you both. I have never been so scared in my entire life. I was going crazy.”
Nesta only shook her head, but when she opened her mouth, it was hard to speak. Cassian grabbed a cup of water from the side table and helped her drink, and when he set the cup back down, he said, “I promise I will never let anything happen to you, to either of you, ever again.”
She nodded, although it was an impossible promise to keep, she knew he would try his damndest.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again, and he pressed his forehead against hers. For a moment, the three of them remained there, Sloan sleeping, her parents above her, dwelling in the peace of silence.
“It’s okay now,” Cassian said, quietly. “It’s over, he’s gone, he can’t hurt you anymore.”
Nesta just stared at her daughter with parted lips as Cassian kissed her forehead.
“We’re going to go home and it’s all going to be okay,” Cassian continued, and she knew he was talking just as much to himself as he was to her. She could see the guilt in his eyes.
But she met his eyes and, voice hoarse, whispered fiercely, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he breathed. “More than I can begin to tell you.”
They sat in silence for a moment, savoring the moment of just being together, being a family. Whole and happy and safe.
Nesta looked down into her daughter’s face, the picture of innocence and perfection. She softly ran a finger along her cheek, terrified to wake her, but needing to touch her, to know she was really here. She knew nothing of the evils of the world, to her, the world was still small and safe. She whispered, “I killed him.”
Cassian swallowed hard. “You did. But you didn’t have a choice.”
Nesta shook her head. “I did though, I didn’t have to-.”
He took her face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away the tears running down her cheeks. “Nesta, he kidnapped you, held you hostage, and forced you to give birth to your baby on your own. Thank the gods for Claire or…” His words dropped off and he closed his eyes. “Nesta, if you hadn’t killed him, I was going to.”
She nodded, understanding him, but it didn’t stop the tears. She gazed down at Sloan. Nesta breathed, “Is she okay? Is everything okay?”
“She’s perfect.” The reverence with which he said the words had Nesta looking up at him. His eyes were on their daughter. “Ten fingers, ten toes, the sweetest smile and the loudest cry I’ve ever heard.”
As if she heard her parents talking about her, Sloan let out a piercing wail and Cassian was on his feet, ready to take her, but there was no need.
Nesta was gently bouncing her, stepping so gracefully into the role of motherhood. She cooed down at her and Sloan’s cries quieted.
“How long was I out? Should I feed her? I don’t-.” She looked up at him, fear overtaking every other emotion. “I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay,” Cassian began, gently. He pressed a button on the remote by her bed as he said, “You slept for about a day and a half. You passed out on the way here, but they checked everything out when we got here and they say, considering, your body is healing as it should, although they had to redo your stitches, but there’s no infection or anything. Other than that, you’ve just been sleeping. They’ve been giving you fluids through the IV.” Cassian broke his gaze from Nestas to look down at Sloan. “She’s been getting formula while you’ve been out, but I told them you planned to breastfeed, so when your nurse comes in, she’ll help.”
Nesta nodded, taking in all the information. She had slept for a long time, but that exhaustion lingered and she had a feeling it would for quite some time.
The door swung open a minute later and Claire came in, looking much cleaner and less frazzled than the last time Nesta saw her, although her eyes teared up when she caught sight of Nesta awake.
No words were needed as Claire went to the side of the bed and wrapped Nesta in her arms. Nesta returned the embrace and they cried together, careful for Sloan between them.
“Thank you,” Nesta breathed. “I’m so sorry, that he pulled you into it, but, I- I’m so thankful you were there.”
Claire only nodded, unable to trust herself to speak, then cleared her throat. “Okay, momma, let's feed this beautiful baby.”
It took a while for Sloan to latch, which Claire explained wasn’t uncommon, but when she did and began to eat, Nesta felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.
Nesta meant it. She was so incredibly grateful to Claire. Without her, neither she nor Sloan would have made it. As someone who Tomas also forced against her will to comply with his wishes, Claire had done her best to make sure Nesta survived a horrid childbirth, and she had brought Sloan to safety.
For that, Nesta was, and always would be, in Claire’s debt.
When Nesta told her as much, Claire simply shook her head with tears in her eyes and said, “Invite me to her first birthday bash and send me the yearly Christmas card. That will be more than enough.”
Her throat was so tight, she didn’t think she could speak, so she nodded and embraced her again.
“Thank you for getting me out, for giving me time to run, too,” Claire whispered, her mouth close to Nesta’s ear. “I really didn’t… I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” The words were so quiet, Nesta doubted Cassian could hear them from where he sat on the couch, Sloan milk-drunk on his chest, fast asleep.
Nesta leaned back and took Claire’s hand in her own. “We’re here. We both made it out.”
Claire gave her a soft smile before leaving to continue her rounds.
When a knock came at the door less than an hour later, she was expecting her sisters, but instead, she was looking at Lucien Vanserra’s eldest brother.
“Eris,” she said, inclining her head in greeting.
He nodded to both she and Cassian. “First of all, congratulations.” He looked at the baby in Cassian’s arms. She looked so small. He sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to have to do this, but when you’re released, we’ll need a statement from both of you.” Cassian looked ready to object, but he quickly added, “We’re not going to be pursuing any charges, but we have...a lot of stories and timelines to sort through.”
Nesta slowly looked to Cassian, who was watching her with weary eyes.
“It’s okay,” Nesta said. “We’ll come to the station on Friday.”
Eris nodded, said his thanks, and was off again.
She didn’t want to, but she already knew she would have to make a statement, and the faster she got it all over with and behind her, the better.
“I hate that guy,” Cassian mumbled, once the door was shut, and Nesta had no idea why, but she started to laugh.
Maybe it was because it was true - Eris Vanserra was a total prick, he always had been. Maybe it was because she hadn’t expected the comment, it had caught her off guard. Or, maybe it was because Cassian looked so cute in his new fatherly role, their newborn sound asleep with her mouth hanging open on his chest.
Maybe it was because she was exhausted, sore as shit, and amazed that she had actually lived through what she’d just gone through.
Her bet was on the last one, but she didn’t care as she plopped her face into her hands and howled.
Cassian just stared at her like she’d gone absolutely mad.
And when her laughter became a mixture of laughter and a sob, he really looked concerned. Hell, Nesta was concerned for herself.
Maybe she was going mad.
Too many emotions. She had too many fucking emotions. Joy, comfort from the fact that her baby girl was here, healthy, thriving. Pain and misery from the trauma she had just gone through. Utter adoration at the sight of the love of her life, holding onto her baby girl with gentle, loving arms. Terror, complete terror from who Tomas was to her.
Over the fact that she’d killed him.
Yes, it was justified.
But she had still killed a man. A man that she had once thought she loved.
It certainly didn’t help that she had just given birth and her emotions were heightened. She wanted to scream, laugh, cry, run as fast as she could to nowhere in particular, while also staying right where she was, with Cassian and Sloan.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asked, hand rubbing a gentle path along their newborn’s back.
She watched him, so in love with him, with Sloan, with her life. She chuckled quietly and said, “I’m perfect. Everything is perfect.”
But things weren’t perfect.
Things were complicated, surreal. She was living halfway in a dream, and halfway in a nightmare without fully knowing what the future held. She had survived mass chaos and her greatest fears, while simultaneously gaining what she never thought she’d be able to have - a child, a man that loved her.
She was unsure how to feel, unsure how to think.
But she had to believe that, in the end, it was all going to be okay.
Eventually.
__
The first night home, Cassian expected to have to get up to console a crying Sloan. The baby monitor was on his side of the bed and Nesta had fallen asleep before her head even hit the pillow. He’d stayed up with his baby girl for an hour or two before he’d decided to try and sleep as well. Sloan slept surprisingly well for a newborn, usually only waking two or three times a night to eat, if that.
So when Nesta began thrashing in her sleep, tears streaming down the sides of her face, silent screams contorting her expression into one of terror rather than peaceful sleep, Cassian was immediately trying to wake her.
But what she was experiencing was deeper than a simple dream. No, she was there again, tied to that chair, feeling her water break and her contractions felt just as real as they were that night.
“Babe,” he begged, taking her face into his hands, his face coming close to hers. “Nesta, sweetheart, wake up.”
She sobbed, her body shaking uncontrollably as she clung to her blanket, but Cassian did not let her go.
He wrapped her into his arms and cried alongside her, guilt flooding his entire body, heartache controlling the depths of his soul.
“Nesta.”
His voice was hard, demanding, comforting, controlled.
Her cries lessened, just a little bit as her body melted into his.
“Sweetheart.”
She became silent, her hands now gripping onto his old, holey shirt, instead of her comforter.
“I’m here,” he whispered, a plea for her to hear, to understand, to realize.
Her forehead leaned into his hard chest, and his arms tightened around her sore body. He didn’t move, nor did she, as they clung to one another in the night.
“You’re safe,” he promised, his voice low, as his hands ran up and down her spine.
She opened her eyes.
She met his gaze.
They stared at one another, unblinking, for a moment, before Nesta breathed, “I’m scared.”
Cassian’s heart broke at the whispered confession, his arms tightening around her shaking frame. “You’re safe,” he repeated. “Sloan is safe, you’re safe, our home is protected, my love, you’re safe.”
She nodded but her eyes slipped shut. She breathed, “I killed him and he still wins.”
He shook his head, letting his lips brush over her head. “He didn’t win, Nes. You’re still dealing with the shit he did to you, yes, but that’s only because it’s all so fresh.”
A small cry crackled over the speaker of the monitor on the bedside table. Cassian was about to throw back the covers, to trudge down the hall and rock Sloan back to sleep after a quick bottle. But Nesta was up, her dream and the wail making her nearly frantic, having to see her baby with her own two eyes to know she was okay.
Cassian sighed when he heard the door to Sloan’s nursery open, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He’d been sleeping like shit, too, worrying about Nes and checking on Sloan. And there was the fact that hospital couches were not meant for anyone taller than five-foot-two much less someone six-foot-three. He’d stay in bed and when Nesta returned, he’d wrap her in his arms and scratch her back like she loved.
Except she didn’t come back to bed.
After a few minutes, Cass cautiously got up and stepped into the hall. He was halfway expecting to see Tomas creeping down the stairs with his daughter, regardless of the fact that his body was currently cooling in the county morgue. There was light coming through the cracked door to Sloan’s nursery and Cassian gently pushed it open.
Nesta was cradling Sloan in her arms, murmuring to her as she nursed. The baby’s eyes were wide open, staring up at her mother. The scene made Cassian’s heart melt.
He didn’t say a word, he kept completely silent as he watched the scene before him unfolded. Unable to keep himself from tearing up, he leaned against the threshold and stared. Nesta looked up at him, her eyes sad but full of wonder.
“She looks like you,” she whispered.
Cassian snorted, although it was half assed. “She’s perfect.”
Her eyes softened as she smiled up at him. “Yes, she is.”
Cassian went to the chair in which Nesta was rocking their daughter and sat against the wall beside them. He watched as Sloan fed, as Nesta watched her daughter lovingly.
“I want her to stay in our room,” Nesta admitted, at last. “I can’t… I have to know she’s safe, I want to know that she’s safe.”
Cassian nodded, without argument. “In the morning, I’ll bring up the bassinet I made from the cabin. I’ll put it by the bed. She can sleep with us for as long as you want.”
“Thank you,” she sighed, relief evident on her face.
“You’re welcome.” He smiled and rubbed a hand up and down her leg.
She cringed and pulled it away. “Oh gods, please, no. It’s been, like, a solid five months since I’ve been able to shave my legs.”
He laughed. “I gave you a foot massage last week. I know what your legs feel like.”
She rolled her eyes, gently beginning to rock Sloan. “That was when I was pregnant. I’m not pregnant anymore. My excuse for not shaving my legs is officially gone.” She looked down at her precious little girl. “Well, I mean, guess she’s technically, officially here.”
Cassian laughed, watching her with adoration in his eyes. Nesta took to the role of being a mother so well, he wondered how she’d ever been able to give up the idea before, when she’d thought it was impossible.
She was gazing down at Sloan, softly brushing her finger over her cheek, when she caught Cassian’s gaze. She laughed awkwardly and blushed. She asked, “Why are you staring at me?”
He shrugged and stood up onto his knees. “Because I can.”
She snorted but leaned down to press her lips to his. “I love you.”
He didn’t stop kissing her, let his lips brush hers, as he said, “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
Nesta stood in the paint department and looked at the wall of samples in front of her. She wanted something light, but something that stood out, too. She didn’t want anything like her father had chosen back in the nineties and-.
She shook her head, trying to free her head of the deja vu that washed over her and chuckling quietly. She had been here before, had done this before. Things were just...a little different this time.
As if she wanted to remind her mother of this fact, Nesta felt a sharp pain against her ribs and she inhaled sharply through her teeth. Beau looked up at her, brown eyes wide. He hadn’t left her side since the beginning of her third trimester and Nesta had learned to love the constant, comforting presence.
“Your sister is using my ribs as a punching bag,” she told him, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t understand her. He opened his mouth in what Nesta swore was a smile and his tongue hung to the side.
He always smiled when they talked about the baby.
Nesta was floored as she realized how different her life had become in twelve months. A year ago, she’d been deciding whether or not she should give up everything she’d ever wanted, to move home and run her father’s crumbling dream of a bed and breakfast. Now she was about to have a baby, her perfect, little girl, and she was going to marry the man of her dreams, the man who gave her the gift she never thought possible.
“Nesta?”
She froze, recalling how someone had called her name the last time she’d been here, who it had been when she turned. But it wasn’t Tomas, just Azriel standing in his old, torn jeans and black hoodie. Out of all of them, it was Azriel who looked the least the part of a rancher, but he sure as hell knew what he was doing.
“Cass said you were running into town, but this was the last place I thought I’d see you,” Azriel said, when Nesta said nothing.
Nesta, collecting her thoughts, gestured to the wall of paint samples. “Nursery color.”
“Ah,” Azriel said, huffing a laugh as he stopped next to her and looked at the wall. Beau brushed up against his leg, and he gave the pup a loving scratch behind the ears. “What about purple?”
Nesta frowned, looking at the endless samples of purple. She had gone over the lavender hues ten times already. “Too predictable. Pink, too. I’ve ruled them both out.”
Azriel chuckled. “Fair enough. Cass wants to paint it green.”
Nesta rolled her eyes. She had to admit that she had her eye on a neutral olive color, but it didn’t seem right, it wasn't special enough. “So I’ve been told. I told him no, though.”
It was true. In fact, the night before they’d had a heated debate over what color the nursery would be. It ended in them making love on the nursery’s carpet, but that was irrelevant.
“How about blue?” Azriel suggested, picking up a few different swatches. “There are a ton of different shades of blue, surely there’s one you two can agree on.”
It was her favorite color, but it limited her decorating choices. Both the camouflage and rodeo nursery ideas were nixed last night as well, and Cassian was still pouting about it.
“I’ve been leaning towards a softer yellow or orange.” She lifted a buttery yellow card from its slot. It was too bright, too rich. She added it to the stack, knowing it may look different away from the fluorescent lights. “Like the sunrise. First light.”
Azriel was nodding. “Why don’t you ask Feyre to paint the sunrise?”
Nesta was going to blame her stupidity on pregnancy brain as her eyes went wide and she said, “I hadn’t even thought of that. She’d love that.”
Azriel just smiled, softly. “Feyre would be honored, if you asked her.”
Nesta nodded, slowly, then picked out a couple different shades of yellows and oranges. “Since you’re here, please take me to get some tacos. I’ll buy. Might even bring some home to Cass, if he’s been good this morning.”
Azriel’s grin widened as they began walking toward the exit. “A little cranky, I must say, but I think that’s just because he’s hungover.”
Nesta snorted. After their fight over paints, he’d indulged himself - one beer too many, perhaps. “It doesn’t take much to be hungover when you wake up at five a.m.”
“True,” Azriel agreed. “I could do tacos, though.”
“Good,” Nesta said, putting the paint swatches into her purse as she and Azriel walked out onto the sidewalk, Beau close behind.
It wasn’t until they were down the street at a taco vendor’s food truck that Nesta asked, “So, when the hell are you going to ask my sister to marry you?”
The bite he’d been in the process of taking nearly came back out. Nesta didn’t even flinch. She’d spent so much time throwing up in the past eight months that partially chewed food didn’t even phase her. She blinked and waited for him to collect himself before he took a drink of the Corona in his hand.
“You just go straight for the balls, don’t you?” He laughed.
She raised her eyebrows. “Have you met my fiancé?”
“Fair enough,” he laughed, but he sighed. “You want the honest truth?”
Nesta suddenly realized she wasn’t sure. She was meddling and the only person who hated meddling more than she did was Elain. But she nodded.
Az took a deep breath and said, “I’ve had the ring for almost six months.”
“What?” Nesta’s eyes must have nearly bulged out of her head, because Az backed up a step. “And why exactly haven’t you proposed?”
His smile was soft but proud, as he said, “I don’t want to take this time from you, or from Cassian. You’re having a baby. Like, Nesta, you’re growing a literal human inside of yourself.” He chuckled and smiled fondly. “Did you know that even when we were in high school all Cass wanted from life was to rope and have a family. You’re giving him one of those things and I can’t ever thank you for making my brother so happy. And I don’t want to take that spotlight from y’all. I want you to have your moment, so that when the time comes, Elain can have hers.”
Nesta hated Azriel for making her cry over her taco, and yet, tears were sliding down her cheeks as she set her taco back down onto her plate and observed him. Eventually, she cleared her throat and said, “Elain is a lucky woman.”
Azriel just shook his head as he took another bite. “That woman deserves the world. If anyone’s lucky, it’s me.”
Nesta found herself completely overwhelmed. A year ago, she hadn’t believed love existed, but now? Her and Cassian, Elain and Azriel, Feyre and Rhysand...this type of love was rare, Nesta was sure of it, but somehow they all ended up in a fairytale romance. Her sisters were happy, she was happy...it was perfect.
“Don’t tell your sister that I made you cry,” Azriel went on, shoving the last of his taco into his mouth. “She’ll kick my ass. She’s scary when she wants to be.”
She shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with a scratchy napkin. “She’ll understand when you knock her up. I cried yesterday during a Christmas commercial.” Azriel waited, knowing that was somewhat common. “A commercial for cattle feed.”
He nodded. “I believe you. Doesn’t change the fact that your sister will punch me in the dick if she finds out I was the cause of your tears.”
They both laughed and Nesta smiled. “Thank you for making her so happy.”
Az gave her that full smile that so many rarely saw. “It’s my pleasure.”
Nesta finished her tacos and ordered some for Cassian for the road. “Word of advice,” she said, getting into her car. Beau already patiently sat in the passenger seat. “Don’t ask her on a holiday. Girls don’t want to share their special day.”
Azriel’s eyebrows raised. “I...hadn’t thought of that.”
Nesta chuckled. “You were going to propose on New Years, weren’t you?”
He nodded once. “Yes, I was.”
She laughed, full and bright, and said, “How about this? You tell me when it’s time, I’ll plan a family dinner and voila, you’ve got yourself a fiancée.”
“Really?” Azriel asked, stopping in front of the driver’s side of the truck’s door.
“Of course,” Nesta said, crossing her arms, the bag of Cassian’s food hanging on her arm.
“Thank you,” he said, and she knew by the look in his eyes that he meant it.
Although they were going to the same place, they said their goodbyes and Nesta drove home, slowly. By the time she made it back home to the ranch with her paint swatches, Cassian was mowing the lawn. He was shirtless, of course, and was chugging a bottle of water as he rode the lawn mower across the grass. As Nesta pulled into the driveway, he was waving and putting it in park.
He was covered in sweat, but Nesta still didn’t stop him as he pressed his lips to the side of her head. “The grass was long.”
Nesta nodded. She had wanted to ask him to mow, considering she was too pregnant to do so, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt his daily plans. “I brought you tacos.”
“Mmm, that’s exactly why I’m marrying you,” he said, pulling her onto his sweaty lap and opening the box in her hands.
She squirmed out of his arms, as best as she could at eight and a half months pregnant and said, “I’m going to go hang the swatches on the wall, come see when you’re done?”
He nodded, shoving an entire taco in his mouth.
She chuckled, but shivered as a brisk wind blew by. “Cass, I know the sun is straight on you, but it’s forty-five degrees out. Don’t you think you should put a shirt on?”
He finished chewing and said, “How else will I keep my tan year round?”
She shook her head and said, “I’ll be inside, call me if you need me. I love you.”
He smiled at her, those hazel eyes sparkling from the joy he felt inside. “I love you too, darlin’.”
She turned and started up the porch steps and heard, “Hey.”
Nesta looked back at him and he asked, the sparkle replaced by his usual mischievous glint, “You got any green swatches in there?”
Nesta rolled her eyes as Azriel pulled the truck in next to her little car. “No.”
She continued up into the house, laughing when she heard Az ask why the hell he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She pulled the swatches out of her purse, including the couple of greens she’d snagged on their way out, along with her phone and she and Beau made their way up to her old room.
The room that she grew up in was the same room her daughter would too.
As she was taping swatches to the room, in various lighting, she called Feyre, putting her phone on speaker.
“Hello?” her sister answered a second later.
“Hey,” Nesta said, looking around the room. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Ask away,” Feyre said.
Nesta admired the swatches she had chosen before clearing her throat. “Would you mind...helping me paint the baby’s nursery?”
There was a slight pause, then Feyre’s quiet voice came through, “Of course.”
“I was thinking the sunrise,” Nesta continued, trying not to cry for the tenth time that day. “Bright, cheery, calming.”
“I can do that,” Feyre breathed. “I can come by this weekend?”
“Perfect,” Nesta agreed. There was a few seconds of silence before Nesta said, “Thank you.”
“Anything for my niece,” Feyre said, then added, “And anything for you. And that idiot fiancé of yours.”
Nesta peeked out the window where Cassian was still mowing without his shirt on. He always acted like it was spring, even in the winter. Although their town stayed pretty mild, winter-wise, there was still a little chill in the air. “Idiot he is, but he’s my idiot.”
Feyre chuckled. “Still on for dinner tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Nesta promised. “I’ll see you then.”
They said their goodbyes before Nesta was left alone, in the silence, observing the room around her. Five minutes of planning in her head passed before heavy boots padded up the stairs and Cassian appeared, now wearing a hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. “Can I help with anything?”
She was admiring the colors in the direct sunlight. “You can tell me which of these you like best.”
“Hmm.” He came up behind her, pressing his big hands against her belly. Even as round as she was, even at over eight months pregnant, his hands still covered most of it. But then they slid upwards until he was cupping a breast in each hand. He made a show of weighing them and squeezing them gently, and said, “I don’t know, I think I’m pretty partial to the left one.”
She rolled her eyes, laughing, and pushed away from him, walking towards the wall. “I meant color, baby.”
“Oh, well that’s easy,” he snorted, coming in closer as well.
It turned out that it was, in fact, not easy.
After forty-five minutes of arguing and an almost silent quickie with the door open to make up, they had narrowed it down to New Spring Chick and Frosted Tropical Apricot.
They would let Feyre make the final decision in the morning.
“Don’t you have to get back out there?” Nesta asked.
Cassian shook his head. “For now, Az has it covered, it’s been an easy day. I was thinking you and I could go out to dinner, though.”
Nesta lifted a brow. “Dinner?”
Cassian nodded, then gestured to her belly. “We only have so much more time before baby comes. We should have a date night while we can.”
Nesta watched him for a moment before saying, “Okay, fine. But does this mean I have to get dressed up?”
Cassian grinned. “You could wear fucking sweatpants for all I care, but I’m taking you out.”
She wouldn’t wear sweatpants, but she also didn’t plan on wearing another real pair of pants until after this baby was out of her.
Cassian pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, which he did every chance he took, and left to go take a much needed shower. Nesta got ready, slipping on a pair of comfy black leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Cass ended up dressing nearly identically, except he did wear sweatpants.
They hopped in the “play truck” and right before they left, Cassian said, “Shit, I’ll be right back.”
Nesta sat straight up, hands forming a protective cage around her stomach. “What? Is everything okay?”
He jogged into the house and came back out a minute later, backpack tossed over his shoulder. Climbing back into the truck, he tossed it in the backseat and put it in reverse.
“What is that?” she asked. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“This,” Cass replied, putting his free hand in Nesta’s and rubbing soothing circles into the back of her hand, “is our emergency bag. It’s got everything we’ll need in it in case you go into labor. Clothes, insurance paperwork, phone chargers, snacks.” He began a smooth back and forth motion. “Diapers, binkies, onesies, little socks and blankets, and everything else our precious girl is going to need.”
She blinked, and hated that tears were, once again, rolling down her cheeks. “You have truly thought of everything, haven’t you?”
Cassian shrugged. “You’re literally growing my child inside of you. As your baby daddy, it’s my job to take as much stress off of you as possible.”
Nesta leaned over the center console and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you.”
He grinned, fully satisfied with himself, as he pulled onto the road and headed into town. They drove to a little Italian restaurant because Nesta had mentioned she could use a plate full of breadsticks. Cassian ordered it to go, though, and hopped back into the truck before driving a mile down the road to the old high school. He parked in the parking lot before hopping out and putting down the truck bed.
“Come on, babe,” he called, already taking the boxes of pasta out of the bag. When Nesta came around, he helped her onto the back of the truck before joining her there, his thigh brushing hers.
She ate her alfredo happily, indeed chowing down on an insane number of breadsticks that Cassian swore he didn’t count.
He was rubbing her feet when she asked, voice quiet, “Are you scared?”
He looked at her, at how she was staring off toward the football field, pretending not to notice him staring at her. “Am I scared of doing something stupid? Yes. Am I scared it’s going to be a lot more than we’re expecting? Yes. Am I scared we’re going to get in over our heads? Yes. Am I scared that there’s about to be a miniature version of you running around? Hell yes.” He turned her face toward his, forcing her to look at him. “But am I scared to be a father? No. Am I scared to meet our daughter? No. Am I scared to do this with you? Absolutely not.”
She whispered, “Quit making me cry.”
But he shook his head, softly. “I love you, Nesta. And yeah, I am scared, but I can’t wait. This little girl already has me wrapped around her finger and she’s not even here yet.”
A tear slid down her cheek that he quickly reached up and brushed away. “Are you scared?”
Nesta took a moment to think about it, but then she sighed. “Yes, and no. It’s complicated.”
Cassian chuckled, in full understanding.
“I’m scared because I don’t know what to expect,” she said, after a minute. “I’m not sure how to handle the not knowing.”
“That’s why we have each other, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s get home. I have a shitload of furniture to build tonight.”
The egregiously overpriced infant's bedroom suit that Nesta had seen online had been delivered that afternoon. Cassian couldn’t understand how Nesta could justify spending as much as some people spent on a vehicle on furniture that was just going to get covered in shit and baby barf.
Not to mention that it had been shipped from overseas.
They packed up their trash and got back in the truck, heading for home.
“While I carry all of the boxes upstairs, why don’t you take a nice bath, baby?” He asked. “And then when you’re done, you can read me instructions that I won’t listen to while I figure out how to put it all together.”
Nesta shook her head, unable to stop herself from chuckling. “At least you’re honest.”
He took her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “I am that.”
Nesta had to admit that the thought of a bath sounded incredible, though, so she didn’t argue. Once they got home, Nesta was making her way, slowly, up the porch, inside, and up the stairs while Cassian got to work on gathering the boxed nursery furniture. They had a changing table, a bookshelf, a dresser, and a crib, all of which Nesta had bought from a small French boutique that had always caught her eye in Paris. When Cassian asked why they couldn’t just go into town and buy something that was already assembled, Nesta’s answer was simple: she was getting what she wanted, and she wanted the modern, white, sleek furniture she’d on her walk to work every day.
Cassian didn’t argue.
While she was soaking in the tub, she could hear Cass moving around in the other room. She’d hear a thump as a box was dropped or something would start dragging across the floor. At one point, she heard a loud bang followed by Son of a bitch!
Nesta laughed quietly to herself and smoothed a hand over her belly, which stuck out of the water by a considerable amount. “Daddy’s getting your room put together, sweet girl, and then we’re ready for you to get here whenever you are.”
She leaned her head back against the cool, porcelain tub, sighing happy. Life had become so crazy lately, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be stressed about it.
Her phone vibrated on the small table by her head and when she leaned up to glance at it, her hand slipped on the slick surface. The table knocked against the tub and Nesta gasped as her phone fell into the water.
“Shit,” she breathed, grabbing it out and tossing it onto a nearby towel. She decided that was the end of her bath and got out drying herself off and getting dressed.
She tried to power her phone back on, knowing she shouldn’t but hoping it hadn’t been in the water long enough to do any damage. The logo popped up in the middle of the screen then it went black and began to make a whirring noise.
“Damn it.” She sighed and made her way downstairs, throwing it in a bag of rice to see if it could be salvaged. Otherwise, it looked like she’d be going into town the next day for a new phone.
Cassian was padding down the stairs a moment later, his brows furrowed. He took one look at Nesta and froze, then looked down at her phone in the bag of rice. “Your phone take a bath, too?”
Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.” With a deep sigh, she leaned back against the counter. “I’m pissed.”
“Me too,” Cassian mumbled, throwing open the fridge and grabbing two beers. “I’ve decided that I hate France. Or at least French furniture. Fuck France and their fancy furniture.”
Nesta snorted and came up behind him, attempting to wrap her arms around his waist, but over her giant bump, she hardly managed to reach around his sides.
Cassian's body shook with silent laughter as he turned to face her. “Bump in the way?” He asked, before setting one of his beer cans on the top of it, which only made Nesta roll her eyes.
“It’s not a table,” she laughed.
“Seems pretty convenient to me,” he shrugged, popping open a can and chugging it down. He brushed his hand over her bump, and just when he touched, baby girl kicked wildly from inside, which only made Nesta groan.
“That either means that she loves me, or that she’s telling me to fuck off,” Cassian said, which made Nesta laugh. After he kissed her forehead, then the bump with the wild, little Nazari inside, he said, “Alright, baby mama, come upstairs and watch me struggle.”
She smirked and headed for the stairs as he tossed the empty can in the trash, opened the second and grabbed a third to take upstairs. “I already do that on the daily. What’s so different about building furniture?”
She heard him mimic her words in a mocking tone and she laughed as she topped the stairs and made her way into the nursery.
It looked like a styrofoam factory exploded. There were pieces everywhere and screws littering the little catch-all tray he pulled from his tool box. She sighed, realizing it was going to be a long night.
But when she looked out the window, into the starry, cloudless night, and screamed Cassian’s name, she forgot all about furniture and messy packing materials. She forgot all about her phone lying useless on the kitchen counter. She even, for a moment, forgot her own name.
Because the stables were catching on fire.
Cassian was instantly behind her, his eyes wide as he swore violently. “Stay here,” he ordered, and then he was gone, pulling out his phone on the way out the nursery door.
Nesta could only stare in horror as Cassian's dark figure, only outlined by the light of the moon, sprinted down the path that led to the stables.
It was quickly going up in flames, all consuming, raging flames. Nesta didn’t understand how it could have happened.
Only moments ago, she had been down in the kitchen and the stables were fine.
Then, the thought that had her heart stopping entered her mind. It hadn’t been an accident, couldn’t have been an accident, but that didn’t make any sense.
A slow panic crept into the pit of her stomach, she was breathing heavier, her heart beating wildly as she sobbed, holding onto her bump, the only thing that allowed her to keep her sanity.
Nesta remembered that Az had told her he’d put the horses in the pasture this morning, since it wasn’t supposed to rain, and she was thankful to whatever god whispered in his ear and told him to do so.
She needed to call someone, needed to get the fire department here. Needed to call her sisters, to call Az. Without thinking, she turned and ran from the room, carefully making her way down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Her phone wasn’t on the counter where she’d left it and she frantically looked around the kitchen.
She plunged into near darkness as the lights went out and a frightened scream burst from Nesta, followed by a sob.
She needed Cassian.
She screamed his name, her voice full of shaking terror as she reached around, trying to find something to hold onto. Eventually, her hands found the edge of the counter and she told herself to breath, in and out. Stress wasn’t good for the baby, panic wasn’t good for the baby.
But she couldn’t help it, and as if the infant in her womb knew that something horrible was happening, she kicked wildly.
Nesta felt the need to puke but she couldn’t move, not in the darkness, not as far from the city as they were. Even as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she couldn’t see through the endless tears.
She tried one more time to scream Cassian’s name, but her voice came out broken, terrified, and it was no use, he was too far away.
She thought she heard a door open and close across the house and she froze. Her voice cracked as she called, “Cass?”
There was no answer.
Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. She held onto the counter as she quickly ran for the back door - only to find that it was jammed shut, a two-by-four under the doorknob preventing it from opening.
She began to hyperventilate as she realized that this, all of this, was deliberate. The fire still blazed outside, and Nesta heard a creak from the old, wood flooring in the other room. Her blood chilled as she realized that she wasn’t alone in the house.
She ran for the front door, finding it stuck shut as well. “Please, please, please!” She sobbed, pulling on the door as hard as she could. There were unmistakably footsteps from the dining room and she cried, “Please, I’m pregnant, please.”
She hurried back to the kitchen as quietly as she could and silently opened a drawer, pulling out a large knife. She held it out, blindly as she took shuddering breaths.
Then he appeared, in the doorway, wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pulled up. He was tall, his shoulders broad, but slim.
She knew who it was.
She would be foolish to convince herself it wasn’t him. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted from her, had stalked her for months without saying a word. He didn’t come any closer.
Nesta did not lower her knife.
She tried to convince herself to look unafraid, to sound calm, but she couldn’t help the tears that continued to stream down her face.
Inside of her womb, the infant became utterly still.
Nesta swallowed and lifted her chin. “Leave,” she ordered, the demand echoing in the silence. “Or I will kill you, and I will not hesitate.”
Even as she said the words, she wasn’t convinced they were true.
Cassian couldn’t breathe. There was smoke in his eyes, it was unbearably hot, and he couldn’t stop coughing, but then he was out in the fresh night air, his back hitting the soft grass.
He knew that Az had led the horses out before he left today, had watched him take them out one by one, but he had to make sure. He had to verify that there wasn’t one down somewhere.
He found nothing, not a horse or person inside.
Except the overwhelming smell of gasoline.
This fire wasn’t natural, it was intentional. This fire was set.
He’d called Azriel before his feet had hit the landing of the stairs telling him what was happening and asking him to call the fire department. He didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like he could turn on the garden hose and put it out. With as much accelerant was used, it would burn all night.
He knew exactly who it was, he didn’t try to delude himself into anything else.
A truck door slammed and Feyre and Rhys were running toward him.
“What happened?” He asked, helping him stand. Cassian saw that his arm was covered in soot. “I have no idea. We were building baby furniture and the barn was fine, came down to the kitchen so I could grab a beer, and when Nes got back upstairs it was in a blaze.” He coughed, but continued, “Smells like a damn Mapco in there, there was so much gasoline dumped.”
“Gasoline?” Feyre asked, covering her mouth in horror.
Cassian nodded. “Tomas did this.”
Rhysand stilled as Feyre’s face paled.
“I have to go to Nesta,” she breathed, backing away from the fire, even though she wasn’t close to it. She glanced back at the dark. “Is she down at the cabin?”
Cassian’s face fell as he glanced up at the big house, then, he was sprinting.
If Tomas had done this, which Cassian was sure he did, he would still be close. He ran without stopping, without a breath, until he was up the back porch. The door was wide open, a piece of wood sitting off to the side.
Cassian was inside of the kitchen before he screamed, “Nesta?!”
There was no reply in the dark house, no movement or creak or whisper. He frantically flicked the light switch, nothing happening.
“What’s going on?” Feyre called, catching up and coming up the stairs.
Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but there was a banging from the front of the house. “Nesta?!”
He was running through the dark house immediately, finding Azriel and Elain on the other side of the front door. It was jammed closed as well. “Move!”
They did as he said and he put all of his weight into the motion as he tried to shove the door open. On the second try, it gave way.
Elain was already crying when she and Az ran in. He said, “Fire department is on the way.”
Cassian was about to say something when Rhysand’s shaking voice called out from the kitchen. “Cass… come here.”
The sound of his voice chilled Cassian’s blood. He hurried back, could see from the glow that either Feyre or Rhys was using their phone’s flashlight function.
He stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tripping over himself and ran to the other side of the island.
He froze.
One of the kitchen knives was missing from its spot in the open drawer, but it laid on the floor, just a few feet away.
There was so much blood.
She was gone. He took her. By taking her, he took them both.
Cassian heaved over the kitchen sink, everything within his stomach emptying out. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. He knew he was sobbing, but no one tried to comfort him. Knew no one was sure how.
Nesta was gone. His baby girl was gone. Tomas had taken them. They were gone, the only hunch of where they had gone written on the kitchen floor: a long kitchen knife and a puddle of blood.
Cassian was ready to set the world on fire.
“I have to find her,” he breathed, he cried, as his face fell into his hands next to the kitchen sink. “I will find her.”
“Cass-.”
“No,” Cassian interrupted Rhysand before he could even say a word. “He’s out there, and he has my fucking fiancée and child!”
But Rhysand only shook his head. “I know. I’m coming, too.”
“Me too,” Azriel agreed, then looked to Elain, who nodded.
“We'll take care of things around here,” Elain promised. “Go to the police. Now.”
Cassian was already near the front door, just as a fire truck pulled onto the grounds.
“I’ll go talk to them,” Feyre said, and kissed Rhysand quickly on the cheek before hurrying out the back door, Elain close behind.
Cassian was looking around the house as he walked, even though he’d already searched the entirety of it. Rhysand and Azriel were on his heels as they exited through the front door.
Rhysand’s truck had the most room, and they knew letting Cassian drive wasn’t the smartest. The first logical place to go was the Carlson ranch, only to find it deserted. Cassian looked at the window, where he’d hurled the brick back at him.
“Where would they go?” Azriel asked, kicking something aside as they searched through his workshop.
Rhysand’s phone rang and he answered it. A quick conversation took place, and Feyre said the police needed to talk to Cassian.
They loaded back up into the truck and went back to the ranch. The police were there, along with the fire department and an ambulance, and the second Cassian’s feet hit the ground, questions were being asked.
“What happened?”
Cassian replayed the situation, from the second Nesta had noticed the fire blazing up until the point he realized they were missing.
“You have to find her,” he told the police, after he told his story. “She’s thirty-eight weeks pregnant, nearly ready to go into labor, you have to fucking find her.”
“We will do everything we ca-.”
“Find her!” he yelled, grabbing the cop he’d been talking to by the shoulders. No one reacted, everyone stayed calm, even the cop that was being grabbed.
The young cop simply took a deep breath before saying, “We will look for her, adamantly, starting now.”
Cassian released his shoulders and nodded, and said in a quiet voice. “Thank you, just… I have to get them back.”
He looked over to where the stables once stood. Now it was a smoldering pile of wood and cinders, all that time put in, all those memories. Gone up in a blaze.
They told Cassian he couldn’t stay in their house that night, that they’d be combing through it for any evidence.
He asked a passing officer, “Will you please, please tell me if that’s her blood?”
The dark red hair, the amber eyes. He was a Vanserra, no doubt.
He nodded. “As soon as we know something, we’ll let you know.”
They let Cassian go in, accompanied by Elain, to get what he would need for the next few days.
Elain did most of the packing, although she cried the whole time. Cassian couldn’t stay focused though, couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her.
All he could think about was Nesta and their baby, where they were, what he was doing to them.
But per the cops request, Cassian went home with Azriel and Elain to wait for further word.
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
It was way too early for Cassian’s alarm to be going off, if he couldn’t remember anything from Rhysand’s wedding.
Fuck, his head killed. And his chest. And, shit, his entire body.
He realized the beeping wasn’t his alarm at the same moment he remembered what had happened.
With a sputtering cough, Cassian woke up and groaned.
He was in a hospital room, lying on a cot. His body was hooked up to monitors, so many things wrapped around him and poked through his skin that he wasn’t sure what they all were. He wore a hospital gown and a thin blanket was draped over his legs.
Every inch of his body throbbed.
He tried to say something, but nothing came out.
He slowly turned his head to one side. An empty chair sat there. Then he turned his head to the left, where Feyre and Rhysand laid together on a couch.
It was their fucking wedding night, and it was being spent covered in his blood, laying on a shitty couch.
“Rhys,” he said, but his voice was quiet. He tried, again. “Rhys!”
Rhys’ eyes fluttered open, and after a second, they focused on him. “Cass, shit. Are you okay?”
Cassian’s eyes found the bottle of water on the low table in front of Rhys.
“Shit,” he breathed. He kissed the top of Feyre’s head, shaking her lightly. “Baby, wake up, Cass is awake.”
She was up, blinking rapidly. “Cass!” Her eyes immediately welled with tears.
Rhys stood, opening the water bottle and carefully giving Cass a drink.
He cleared his throat and said, voice rasping, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Feyre sat on the edge of the cot and took Cassian’s hand gently in hers. “For what? Are you kidding me?”
“I ruined your day,” he said, eyes closing as his fingers wrapped around Feyre’s.
“The only person at fault is Tamlin,” Feyre breathed, wiping her tears away. “I’m just glad you’re awake.”
Her voice broke on the last word, causing Cassian to open his eyes and give her a reassuring smile. “You can’t get rid of me yet.”
A laugh bubbled out of Feyre as Rhysand said, “If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”
Cassian looked at his best friend, at the guilt plainly written there and he shook his head. “No need. You’d do the same for me. Besides, who knew that asshole would pull out a fucking gun?”
Cassian tried to sit up but cringed, his whole body full of shooting pain as he decided to just stay put.
“Just rest,” Feyre said, gently.
“Is Nesta here?” Cassian asked.
Feyre frowned, but it was Rhysand that said, “She’s in the room across the hall.”
Cassian stilled. “What? Why? What happened?”
“She was just dehydrated,” Feyre said, her hand still in Cassian’s. “Apparently she’d been puking her guts up all day yesterday. Which makes sense, I guess, but I had no idea. I should have been paying closer attention. If I knew, I would have made her relax.”
“She was puking?” Cassian asked, then looked at Feyre with a confused expression. “Why would that make sense? Make sense of what?”
A panic look formed in Feyre’s gray-blue eyes. “What?”
Cassian slowly took his hand out of Feyre’s. “You know something.”
“I do not,” she protested, crossing her arms.
Cassian slowly looked from Feyre to Rhys. “Why is your wife lying to me?”
But Rhys wasn’t looking at Cassian, his head was in his hands. Feyre said, “I’m so sorry, it slipped out. I’m just so tired, and it was such a shock that-.”
“What is going on?” Cassian demanded, grunting as he pulled himself into a sitting position. “Why was Nesta admitted? Is she okay?”
Rhys sighed. “They suggested we not tell you yet. The bullet missed your heart by millimeters, Cass. Any lower, and you wouldn’t be here. For that reason, they don’t want you dealing with any stressful situations and-.”
“Nesta’s pregnant.”
Rhys turned to glare at his wife, who shrugged, but Cassian only blinked once, twice, processing. He shook his head slowly, saying, “We can’t have kids. Nesta can’t have kids.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, but the words were distant to his own ears. “She told me she can’t conceive.”
“I know,” Feyre said, quietly. “She was told she couldn’t, Cass, but they ran the test and she’s pregnant.”
Cassian's lips snapped shut as a thousand different emotions flooded through his body. “I just… I don’t… I need to see her. Help me up.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Rhysand said, shaking his head. “You were just fucking shot.”
“Don’t care,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “I-.”
“I’ll get her,” Feyre said. “Just...stay put. Alright? She’s in shock enough as it is, both from what happened and finding out….” Feyre’s words trailed off, exhaustion making her shoulders slump. “Just rest, and I’ll be back.”
Feyre slipped out the door and left Cassian and Rhys alone. “I’ll have Az get some clothes and whatever else you’ll need and bring them over to the house so we don’t have to stop on the way home.”
Cassian was only half listening. “What? No, I’m not staying with you.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Yes, you are. You were shot in the chest less than 24 hours ago.”
“I can’t leave the ranch,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. To him, it was. “And I’m sure as shit not leaving my pregnant girlfriend there by herself.”
“Cassian, don’t be a dumbass, you can’t-.”
“No, don’t try that shit. You’d be doing the same thing, if the roles were reversed, and you know it.”
Rhysand scowled but didn’t correct him. “I’m the one with medical experience. Nesta’s not-.”
“She can handle a list of instructions, Rhys,” Cassian muttered. “And I can take care of myself.”
Rhysand’s head fell back, exasperated. “Stubborn ass.”
“Prick,” Cassian mumbled back. A moment passed before Cassian said, “If I need you, I’ll call. Besides, you just got married and have dealt with enough shit. I’m not intruding.”
“It’s not intruding if-.” He saw the look on Cassian’s face and sighed. “Fine,” Rhysand said. “But I’m not going to be happy about it.”
“I’m aware,” Cassian said, but now he was grinning, just a little bit.
That grin faded quickly, though, as Cassian looked at the empty doorway, waiting for Nesta to walk through it.
Rhys asked, “Are you okay?”
Cassian knew he wasn’t asking about the gunshot wound. He didn’t answer for a minute because he didn’t know. “I just… I don’t know.” He dragged his good hand down his face. “You don’t think she lied to me, do you?”
Rhys was shaking his head before the question was out. “No, she wouldn’t do that. But also…” Rhys had the decency to look at least somewhat guilty. “I might have had Viv pull her file and I looked through her medical history. She was diagnosed as ‘infertile’ at twenty-two, at a women’s clinic in France.”
Cassian knew he should be pissed at Rhys for the invasion of privacy, but at least knowing that Nesta hadn’t lied to him eased some of the panic he felt rising.
He nodded, slightly. A minute later, Feyre came back into the room, a pale Nesta behind her. One look at Cassian and her eyes were misty.
“We’ll give you two a minute,” Rhysand muttered, taking Feyre’s hand and escorting her out.
Nesta didn’t say a word as she walked to the side of the bed and plopped down in the chair that Feyre had been sitting in.
He turned to look at her, doing his best to hide the pain on his face whenever he moved his left arm. Or the left side of his body. Or his entire body.
“Tell the truth,” he said, wishing she would look at him, instead of at her bare feet on the floor. “Am I sexier now that I’m a hero?” She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob and when she looked up at him, there were tears running down her face. His voice was soft. “Baby…”
“I was so scared I was going to lose you,” she cried, unable to stop the rough, body-shaking sobs.
He pushed himself to the edge of the bed and brushed his fingers along her cheek. “Hey.”
She looked up, eyes red, and she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” he asked, cringing as he pulled her into him. She was gentle, careful for the wound as she buried her face into his neck.
“Feyre said she let it slip,” Nesta said, words muddled against his skin. “But I’m too shocked to be pissed, even though my reaction should be to kick her little ass.”
Cassian huffed a laugh, keeping perfectly still as his arm slid around her. Every ounce of his body cried to call for the nurse and get more pain meds in his system, but he’d wait. “Nesta-.”
“I promise I didn’t know,” Nesta said, voice quiet. “I promise I was told, years ago, that I couldn’t get pregnant, Cass.”
She leaned back and he caught the genuine fear in her eyes. He felt ashamed for doubting her, even for a second.
“I know,” he breathed. “I trust you.”
“I…” she sighed, shaking her head, her words falling short. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, taking her chin gently in his hand and forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’m not mad. Shocked, completely fucking shocked...but I’m not mad.”
They sat there for a moment, looking at each other, not saying a word. Neither of them had said it yet, but they were both thinking it.
“We’re having a baby,” Nesta breathed.
Cassian took a deep breath and nodded. “We’re having a baby.”
She could see he tried his hardest not to, but the grin was infectious. She began to smile as well. The tears slowed, but didn’t stop.
“I’m scared,” she said, voice small.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, brushing the wild wisps of hair out of her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m going to be there, every step of the way. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere, alright?”
She nodded.
“It’s okay to be scared,” he went on, that low voice soothing. “I’m scared, too.”
She met his gaze with a wistful smile. For a moment, neither of them said a word, but then Nesta frowned. “What the fuck are you doing? Lie back down. Does the nurse even know you’re awake?”
Cassian rolled his eyes. “I am lying down.”
“All the way, against the pillows,” she ordered, already on her feet to reach for the remote on the side of his bed. She pressed the nurse call button.
He groaned. “Nes, I’m fine, they’ll probably release me today and-.”
“You took a round to the chest!” She said, voice rising.
She didn’t want to cry anymore, but damn it, every time she closed her eyes, she would see him lying in his own blood. “You have to take it easy,” she said, after taking a deep breath. She placed a protective hand over her still flat stomach. “We both do. Doctor’s orders.”
Cassian’s jaw locked, but he nodded, nonetheless. “Fine.”
The door swung open and the nurse came in. She gave Cassian a bright smile. “Glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
“Like I got shot,” Cassian said, that grin returning.
The nurse chuckled. “Well, the doctor is allowing you to go home today. He has prescribed you pain meds and wants to make sure you don’t live alone.”
Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but Nesta was already saying, “He doesn’t.”
“Good,” the nurse said, taking Cassian’s vitals. “You’ll need to take it easy for the next few weeks. I’ve made you a follow up appointment for next week. Other than that, no physical activity of any kind. Your doctor will tell you more at your follow-up, but until then, rest as much as possible. Even if the meds are working really good and you feel like getting up and doing stuff...don’t.”
“I guess now is a bad time to mention I run a ranch,” he said, opening and closing his left fist, trying to get used to the sling he’d woken up in.
Nesta’s eyebrows rose at his words, but she said nothing.
The nurse chuckled and scribbled something on a clipboard, tucking it back into its slot at the end of the bed. “Well, I’d say it’s time to look into hiring a ranch hand.”
She left without another word and Cassian mumbled, “I am the ranch hand.”
“Azriel and Rhysand said they’ll help,” Nesta said, when they were alone. “And my sisters. And I’ll help, too.”
“You’re pregnant,” Cassian said.
“Pregnant, not useless,” Nesta shot back. “I can still help.”
Cassian sighed, nodding. “I know, I just… I can’t just sit back and relax.”
“It’s only temporary,” Nesta said.
Cassian took a moment to think about all the things he did every day. Sure, with the five of them, it should be fine. But they all four had real world jobs, with real world schedules. Well, all but Rhys. His would change every few weeks, depending on who’s rotation he was on. And the rolls of hay he fed the horses, those weighed damn near seven or eight hundred pounds, and that’s if they were bone dry. The image of Elain and Feyre trying desperately to move a sopping wet, heavy roll of hay made him chuckle.
Nesta looked at him and he sighed. “Having a ranch hand around might not be a bad idea, but only until I’m healed.” He carefully pressed a hand to his bandaged chest and winced. “But it’s only temporary,” he said, repeating Nesta’s words.
“Exactly,” she whispered. “Now, let’s get you home.”
Rhysand came in with a bag of clothes Azriel had brought. Once he was dressed and discharged, the whole bloodied crew walked out into the early evening light. Even though they all had changed and were no longer covered in Cassian’s blood, they all needed a serious shower. Nesta could still feel the dried blood in strands of her hair.
Feyre and Rhysand dropped them off at the ranch and into Nesta’s little house. She was going to take him to the main house and into the master bedroom, but the thought of all those stairs had Cassian cringing.
So he helped himself, despite everyone’s protests, up the three steps of the front porch and through the front door, then into Nesta’s bedroom, where he slowly laid back against the blankets.
“Call if you need anything,” Feyre said, only for Rhysand to repeat the statement. She promised she would then they were off.
Cassian had already fallen asleep, Beau now laying at his feet, when Nesta padded into the washroom for a shower.
She turned the water on, turning the handle as far to the left as it would do, and waited until steam poured out over the frosted glass door and stepped in. Nesta hissed as the stream hit her back, scalding her, but also making her feel...something.
The last couple of days had been some of the worst of Nesta’s life. She had moments where she couldn’t breathe, where she could barely find the strength to keep going. Especially when she had no idea where Cassian’s life sat in limbo.
She leaned her forehead against the tile, doing her best to quiet the sob that tore from her. She had done her best to be strong while they were at the hospital. The only time she’d cried was in the waiting room and when she finally got to see that Cassian was alive and well.
And when she’d found out she was pregnant.
She’d stared at Elain, not sure if she’d heard her right, but when she repeated herself, and showed Nesta the positive pregnancy test on her scans, Nesta had started sobbing.
She’d cried because she was scared. She had no idea how to bring a child into the world, only that it hurt like hell. She’d cried because she had no idea how Cassian was going to respond. This wasn’t planned, it was the opposite. This was unexpected. She’d cried because she was shocked. She didn’t even know what to say, no words could encompass how she felt.
But mostly, she cried because she was so, so happy.
With her forehead pressed against the tile wall, Nesta pressed a protective hand over her stomach, no sign of the precious life showing inside.
She was going to be a mother.
To Cassian's child.
Cassian, who she loved, who almost left the world far too soon.
It was so incredibly overwhelming.
She stayed in the shower until her eyes dried, until there were no tears left to cry. She stayed until the water turned lukewarm and she no longer felt Cassian's blood on her skin. She stayed until she was yawning, until she longed for her own bed, lying next to him.
The water turned off and she got out and dried off before walking back into her bedroom, where Cassian laid, scrolling through his phone.
The second she walked across the threshold, his eyes raked over her naked body. Then, he said, eyes narrowed, “You were crying.”
Nesta didn’t deny it, but she walked to the other side of her bed, where her dresser was. “It’s been a long few days.”
“Yeah,” Cassian said, quietly. “Hey, come here.”
Nesta slipped on her panties before walking over to her bedside and falling onto her bed, next to Cassian. He watched her with soft, gentle eyes.
“You know you can talk to me, truthfully, about anything, right?” He asked, quietly.
“Of course.” She was thankful that months of sleeping next to each other had already obligated their sides of the bed. She was also thankful that his side was the left side, allowing her to carefully curl into his side, throw her leg over his hips and snuggle into his neck. “I’m just…processing.”
“Processing is okay,” he mumbled, turning her lips to his. “I just want to know that you’re okay.”
“I am,” she said, or will be, she thought.
Sleep.
She needed sleep.
It wasn’t five minutes later that she drifted into a deep, unyielding sleep. She slept perfectly, dreamless, which after the last few days, she welcomed a peaceful night.
She awoke, feeling rested, the next morning, thanks to the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and Beau hopping off the foot of the bed.
Nesta still laid in her panties, a thin blanket tossed over her, but she was completely alone. She shot up, panic setting in.
“Cassian?” She called, knowing full well that she was being frantic, but didn’t care, not after all that had happened.
“Calm down,” he said, deep voice floating into the bedroom. “I’m taking a piss.”
With a relieved sigh, Nesta fell back against the pillows.
He gripped the door frame as he appeared, slowly making his way back into the bedroom. “Are you okay?”
She was immediately up, rounding the bed and wrapping her arm around his good side. She took as much of his weight as she could, which wasn’t much. “I’m fine. You should have asked for help.”
“I’ve been using the bathroom by myself for twenty-seven years,” he said, groaning as she helped him settle back into the pillows. “I think I can handle it.”
“Yeah, well, you’re recovering from a bullet in your chest now, so that changes things.” She leveled a look at him and grabbed one of his ratty, old t-shirts from his designated drawer in the dresser. She padded down the hall towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make coffee, do you want some?”
“Please.” He yawned and froze, grabbing for his phone. “Shit, what time is it?”
Nesta’s voice floated from the kitchen. “Quarter after eight. We slept hard.”
He didn’t reply, because he was reading the text messages on his phone.
When she came back, mugs in hand, she still found him reading. “Everything okay?” He didn’t answer. She hurried to him, setting their coffees on the nightstand and sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. “Cassian, what is it?”
He blinked. “They… they took care of everything.”
She softly smiled. “They said they would.”
It was still surprising though. Thank the cauldron Rhys had worked for Isaac as well all those years ago, and that he knew not only what he was doing, but where everything was kept. He was also very thankful that Isaac had instilled the same work ethic into Feyre and Elain that he had in Nesta.
“They want you to rest, my love.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead before standing. “Which is exactly what you should be doing.”
She turned, heading for the bathroom herself, but he caught her wrist, tugging her back lightly. “You should be, too.”
She stood right at the edge of the bed and he leaned over pressing the gentlest of kisses to her stomach.
Nesta’s eyes softened as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Why do I feel like you’re going to be spoiling me?”
“Because I am,” he muttered against her skin, giving her another feather-like kiss.
“I don’t like to be spoiled,” Nesta muttered, grinning.
“Liar,” Cassian crooned, then leaned back against the pillows, face distorted.
Nesta took the pill bottle off the bedside table and handed him one with a bottle of water. “Take it.”
He groaned, but didn’t protest.
“I have work to do to get ready for opening day,” Nesta said. Including cleaning the stables, she thought. “If you need me, call me.”
“No, no.” Cassian held onto her. “You’re not working today either. No, you’re staying here.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m only seven weeks pregnant, Cass, not seven months. I can still do pretty much everything I was doing before I found out.”
He didn’t budge. “What if I said I wanted you to stay with me?”
“I’d say that I love you, but we have things we have to do.”
“You may not like to be spoiled but I do,” he murmured.
Nesta snorted as she walked to the dresser and pulled out shorts and a tee shirt to pull on. “I promise I’ll spoil you this afternoon.”
“You better,” he said, sighing. “Until then Beau will have to spoil me.” As if in answer, Beau let out a big yawn and rolled over to go back to sleep. “Thanks, bud. I know I can always count on you.”
Nesta chuckled and kissed his forehead. “I love you.”
“Love you.” Cassian reached for the remote control and flipped through the channels and Nesta went into the bathroom to get ready.
Thirty minutes later, travel mug in hand, Nesta opened her front door, ready to head up to the house and see what needed her attention.
And was met with two police officers.
She let out a small yelp and pressed her hand to her heart.
“Sorry, Miss,” the older cop said, gently. “Are you Nesta Archeron?”
“I… yes,” Nesta began, hesitantly.
“We’re here about the incident that happened here the other night,” the one went on, while the younger cop remained silent.
“Okay,” she said, slowly.
“May we ask you some questions?”
“Of course,” Nesta said, leaning back against the doorframe.
“Can you tell us what happened?” The older one asked.
She pursed her lips and said, “My sister’s insane ex-boyfriend crashed her wedding, got drunk, and shot my boyfriend.”
The younger of the two, flipped through his notepad. “Would that be… Cassian Nazari?”
“Was there someone else who got shot that night?”
Nesta turned, finding Cassian limping from the bedroom.
“Mr. Nazari?” He asked.
“Cassian,” he said, extending his good hand to both officers. They accepted and he said, “You find the asshole who did this to me yet?”
The older cop hesitated. “Yes, but he was let out on bail. You may be needed to testify in court, when his hearing comes, but we wanted to come get a statement-.”
“He’s not in jail?” Nesta asked, exasperated. “He fucking almost killed-“
“It’s okay,” Cassian said, softly, his hand a gentle support on her elbow. “I’ll be there.”
“Good,” the cop said. “We’ve taken your statement, Miss Archeron, and it will be filed in the report. Is there anything else you wish to be recorded?”
There’s a lot I’d like to say, Nesta thought, but she remained tight lipped and silent.
“Tamlin was trying to shoot the groom, Rhysand Lunasa,” Cassian went on. “I got hit by mistake. I’m sure you’ll be wanting a note from the surgeon, but I nearly died. He was drunk, yeah, but Tamlin knew what he was doing.”
“And Mr. Lunasa, he’s the one who performed triage until the ambulance arrived?” He asked.
“Yes,” Cassian said, nodding. “He’s an EMT.”
The older one asked, “Miss Archeron, we noticed you recently returned from living in Europe for an extended period. You don’t think this could have anything to do with the attack?”
Nesta opened her mouth to reply, but Cassian said, “That’s irrelevant. She moved her after the death of her father. This was a targeted attack that went wrong, and you should have never let him bail out.”
The younger cop froze while the older cop’s eyes narrowed. “You may want to watch your tone, boy.”
“With all due respect,” Cassian went on, “I just had to be rushed into emergency surgery because a bullet nearly hit my heart. I want my pregnant girlfriend to be able to sleep well at night, and that may be kind of hard to do with the guy that almost murdered me, and intended to murder my best friend, her brother-in-law, still walking around.”
Nesta knew that tone.
Cassian was pissed.
And he had the right to be.
The older cop’s eyes softened as he let out a sigh. “I understand your concern, but that is out of my hands. The court date is next Monday. If you need help or have concerns before then, call the station.”
“Will do,” Cassian said, voice like ice. “Have a nice day, officers.” He wrapped an arm around Nesta’s waist and pulled her back into the house, closing the door and locking it, for good measure.
She walked into the kitchen and braced her hands on the counter.
“Nes-.”
“They let him out on bail? Are you fucking kidding me?”
He limped over to the kitchen, turning her around and pulling her into his side. “I know, baby. It’s bullshit, but there’s no defense. They’ll lock him up and-.”
She shook her head and pushed on his stomach carefully. “He’ll be in the wind. He’s not going to stick around. I need to call Feyre.”
Cassian opened his mouth to protest, but then he nodded, slowly. Nesta hated to put such a damper on Feyre and Rhysand’s newlywed days, too, but this was crucial. Her sister had to know. She called Feyre, who answered on the second ring, and gave her a quick overview. For the entire phone call, Cassian stood on the threshold of the kitchen, watching, waiting, concerned.
His eyes were full of worry as he beheld Nesta.
She hated that look, that concern. Worrying about her would do him no good.
The second she hung up the phone she let out a loud, frustrated noise in the silent kitchen. Beau instantly reacted, hurrying into the kitchen to see what was the matter.
“This is so fucked up,” Nesta breathed, shaking her head vigorously. “This is so fucked up!”
“Nes,” Cassian warned.
“No,” she said, and she knew she was crying, knew she looked panicked, looked ridiculous in her current state, but she didn’t care. She sobbed, her body shaking. “This is so fucked up, Cass. They’ve been married for mere days and they have to worry about Feyre’s ex? He fucking shot you, Cass! He nearly killed you, you nearly died! I find out I’m pregnant, and you almost die.”
The look in Cassian’s eyes shattered as he attempted to take a step forward, but the meds had yet to kick in, and he had already been moving more than he should have been. “Nesta, I need you to relax, stress isn’t good for the baby-.”
“Relax?” she breathed. “What makes you think I can relax right now? He can be out there anywhere. He could be on our property!”
“He’s not though,” Cassian said, gripping the door frame, the room beginning to spin. “He’s- he’s long gone, and-.” With a deep breath, he turned and started for the bedroom. “Nes, I gotta lay down.” He held onto the wall as he walked and felt Nesta under his arm a second later. “You’re going to strain yourself.”
She asked, “Would you rather fall on your face?”
He didn’t think that warranted a response. She helped him back into bed. He fell back, a hand pressed to his wound. Nesta watched and her heart broke. “I… Cass…”
She was powerless to stop the sob that broke from her. Cassian felt powerless to help.
“Sweetheart, please.” He held his hand out to her. She shook her head.
“I don’t- I don’t even know why I’m crying,” she said, burying her face in her hands.
“You’re overwhelmed, Nes, you need to breathe.” Cassian reached out, rubbing her lower back. “Why don’t you take a warm bath?”
She shook her head. “I need to go start trying to clean-.”
“Nesta, so help me God, you’re carrying my child. You can’t be stressing out. I will call Azriel. He’ll handle it.”
She fell onto the bed, beside him, sobbing uncontrollably as he rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles. She knew he didn’t feel comforted, knew he was in pain, knew the past few days had just as much affect on him as they had on her, if not more, but he said nothing. All he did was comfort her, his love, the mother of his child.
“I need sleep,” she said, as she cried. “I need fucking wine but I can’t fucking have it anymore.”
Cassian’s hand stilled, as if he wanted to say something, but it quickly began, once more. Those small circles being drawn on her back was all that kept her from completely losing her shit.
Her sobs eventually turned into nothingness. Beau’s chin was resting on her leg as Cassian continued to rub her back. She felt guilty. She should have been the one comforting him, but she didn’t stop his soft, soothing fingers.
“Sleep,” he said. “Rest, Nesta, take a day to yourself. Stay here with me, collect your thoughts. You can start on your stuff tomorrow. For today...just relax. Please.”
She sniffled, the only sound the tv on some mindless show in the background, and nodded. “I need to make an appointment, to see my doctor.”
Cass nodded. “I’ll get your phone.” Nesta raised her head and just stared at him. “Or I’ll stay right here and let you go get it.”
“Exactly.” She rolled over and laid her hand on her stomach, looking down at it. “You’re already messing with mommy’s emotions, aren’t you?”
Mommy.
Cassian’s throat tightened as he looked at her. He couldn’t help but imagine what she was going to look like in a few months, belly rounded out, carrying his baby.
“Nes, I- I know all of this was unexpected and probably not the best timing, but…” He cleared his throat, surprised that his voice was wavering. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Ever.”
Nesta’s eyes softened as she looked up at him. “I’m happy too, Cass. You’re right...it’s not the best timing...but, I’m happy, too.”
Cassian reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. “You’re going to be an amazing mother.”
“I don’t know about that,” Nesta answered, in all honesty. She had gotten used to never imagining herself as a mother, much less being a good one. “But you’re going to be one hell of a father.”
“A family,” Cassian breathed, and she recognized the look in his eyes. A family was something that Cassian never had, but wanted so desperately. “Me, you, and baby.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, and despite herself, laughed, quietly. “A family,”
“We’re going to get through this, Nes,” he said, meeting her gaze. “And when we do, it’s going to be beautiful.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” she mumbled, as she scrolled through her phone for her doctor’s number.
“And did it?” he asked. “Make you feel better?”
“A little,” she confessed, setting her phone down to meet his tired gaze.
“Stay with me today,” he begged, quietly. “Spoil me. Tomorrow, I’ll let you work your ass off...but, today, be lazy with me. Please.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip, calculating all she had to get done before the opening of the B&B next week, but she nodded, slowly. “Fine.”
Cassian smiled. “Thank you, now part one of spoiling me includes taking a relaxing bath.” He pointed to the bathroom. “Go.”
Nesta nodded and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Okay. Then how about I make breakfast?”
Cassian chuckled. “Sounds perfect, because I’m starving.”
Nesta shook her head and climbed off the bed, stopping at her dresser for clean clothes, but Cassian said, “Oh, and part two of spoiling me is getting out of the bathtub naked, sorry, I don’t make the rules.”
Nesta rolled her eyes but didn’t protest as she went into the bathroom, stripped down, and started to fill the tub. She could hear him in the bedroom, watching something sports related on the t.v. as she sunk into the water. It filled up around her as she closed her eyes, then turned the faucet off with her toes. She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind, tried to push away her fears and anxieties, but it only worked so much. Nonetheless, she did her best to relax before washing herself with her favorite lavender soap and pulling the plug to let the water drain.
She dried herself off, brushed out her hair, and rubbed lotion all over her body before entering the bedroom.
Cassian was already looking at the doorway, apparently having heard her approaching.
Beau was sound asleep on the rug, snoring softly as Nesta meandered into the room.
The look in Cassian’s eyes had her toes curling.
“No physical activity,” Nesta warned. “Doctor’s orders.”
“The doctor has never seen your tits.” His voice was deeper than normal, slower, and she climbed into bed next to him, seeing his eyes glassy, she knew why.
“How do those pain meds got you feeling?” She chuckled, knowing they’d finally worked their way into his system.
He shrugged, but wrapped his good arm around her waist, pulling her against his body. His nose was in her damp hair, breathing deeply and inhaling her scent. “Like I could make you feel good.”
Nesta chuckled as she settled back into the pillow and stole the remote from him, turning it from the football highlights and flipping through channels. Cassian protested and said, “I was watching that…” Without looking at him, Nesta flipped the top half of the blanket down, exposing her bare chest. He nodded and said, “Remote is yours, yes, ma’am.”
He fell against her shoulder, his mouth finding its way against her neck. She chuckled, flipping through the stations. “Cass.”
“Hmmm,” he mumbled, tongue brushing her skin, kisses trailing down to her collarbone.
“Rest,” she ordered.
“I am,” he argued.
“You are not,” she laughed, then pushed him back by his forehead.
He frowned, then yawned. “Your tits help me relax.”
“My tits make you do the opposite of relax. I’m putting on a shirt.”
“No.” He laughed, quietly, pulling on her hand before she could move. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
She found a lifetime movie that could play in the background and laid his hand on her stomach. She curled up against him and sighed.
“What’s on your mind?” He asked, his thumb rubbing slow circles against her abdomen.
“Just…how we’re going to do all of this.” At his questioning glance, she went on. “Run a newly reopened B&B, maintain the ranch, and juggle a newborn? It’s only the two of us and we’re about to need a lot more hands. Not to mention who knows how long until you’ll be back to work.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back at it next week. I don’t really give a shit what the doctor says, we’ve got animals that count on me.” He saw the protest in her eyes but forged on before she could interrupt. “As for the B&B, maybe we should hire a manager or an assistant for you. Something to help with the business side of it. And lastly, we’re going to have the most badass kid of all time, he’ll be helping us on the ranch before you know it.”
Nesta glanced up at him. “He?”
Cassian’s cheeks reddened, not even realizing he’d made that slip. “I’ve always wanted a boy first. I want someone I can play with, get rough with. I want a built in roping partner. I’ll be over the moon if we have a girl, don’t get me wrong. But gods, I want a boy.”
Nesta looked up at him and kissed his cheek, softly, before saying, “If it is a boy, I hope he looks just like his daddy.”
Cassian's smile was so genuine and bright and utterly beautiful that Nesta couldn’t help but kiss him, once more, slowly, tenderly, on his lips.
They laid like that for hours until morning turned into afternoon, until they both fell asleep, peacefully, wrapped in each other’s arms.
