Hi! This Is My First Time Asking But Maybe You Could Do A Co-workers And A One Night Stand For The Acotar

Hi! this is my first time asking but maybe you could do a co-workers and a one night stand for the Acotar bingo with azzy?? like they are both spies for rhys and something happens on a mission orrrr…. idk fluff please :))))

feel free to ignore - i love ur work btw <33

Oh my dear I definitely can

Thanks so much for the reassurance, I'm a people pleaser KEEP COMMENTING COMMENTS THEY ARE MY BIGGEST FUEELLLLLL

Me writing a normal fanfic: 😃

Me 5 seconds after I start creating a whole trauma, past story and a lot of facts that are not exactly necessary to the story: 🥰😍🤩😚💕💖💟💞🤗✨️

When I was writing this I thought: Omg maybe I'm finally ready to write smut (I'm not, the need completely disappeared from me the moment I opened the document)

Pillowtalk

As you and Azriel prepare for yet another mission together to watch the suspect camplords in the Illyrian mountains, you go over your plans meticulously, ensuring you are ready for whatever challenges lie ahead. You and Azriel have created a unique bond over the years, having worked together on numerous missions for the High Lord. Both of you knew how to work together and where your boundaries were laid. It was precisely that that made working with him so easy, no matter the amount of time you spent together, he never ever asked you to take off the mask that usually covered your face.

The journey to the Illyrian mountains is always filled with tension since you know how much Azriel hates his old home. You know you must be discreet to avoid detection. You and Azriel move silently, utilizing your stealth and his powers to blend into the shadows. You keep your senses sharp, alert to any potential danger.

However, even the most carefully laid plans can go awry. During your surveillance, you encounter an unexpected group of hostile Illyrian males who happened to be patrolling in that area. Azriel fights valiantly, but he is fighting against five of the seven that attacked you, and even if he defeats three of them, the other two remaining aim for his wings and cause a serious injury during the wings' leather, leaving him vulnerable and unable to defend himself adequately.

In a split second, you take your decision, and you know you must act swiftly to protect your partner. Without hesitation, you remove your mask, it helps you to maintain silence and prevents the enemies from hearing your breathing. But right now it is only making it difficult for vision to be clear, the fighting usually being Azriel's work.

As you take off the mask it reveals the burn mark that runs from your neck to a portion of your face. It serves as a reminder of a past event that you try to keep hidden from prying eyes. Also, it would work as an easy way for your enemies to recognize you anywhere you went. Even if they didn't remember your face, they would remember the scars, this being the only reason to keep your face a mystery during your missions.

Despite your reservations, you know very well that your identity is a small price to pay to save Azriel. Drawing upon all your strength, you fiercely fight off your remaining attackers, using your skills to ensure you both survive the ordeal.

After the dust settles and the danger has passed, Azriel looks at you with a mixture of awe and concern. He finally sees the face that you had kept concealed for so long. His gaze lingers on the burn mark, but he doesn't pry or ask questions. He knows that you have your reasons for keeping your identity a secret, and he respects your privacy in everything.

You quickly winnow yourself and him to a nearby cabin, paying an offensive amount of gold to the keeper for her to remain silent about your state there. She only nods once and takes you to the main room, running to take medical supplies for your partner.

-Do you need help? - She asks softly, but you can see her nervousness as she looks at the blood.

-No, I can take it from here. Thank you for everything - You dismiss her and she happily gets out of the room and closes the door behind her, leaving you to take care of Azriel's wings, which are already closing their wounds.

As Azriel recovers from his injuries, you stay by his side, tending to his wounds with care and cleaning them at one time or another. As you spend time together during his recuperation, he senses there is more to your burn mark than meets the eye. You can sense his eyes floating to your neck sometimes, but you let him be fully healed before saying anything.

-You know you can just ask, right? - You say as Azriel sits beside you as you look out the window.

-I hope I'm not prying or making you uncomfortable, but I couldn't help but notice your burn mark. It must have been a difficult experience - You take a deep breath, your fingers tracing the edge of the scar absentmindedly - You don't have to share if you don't want to-

-Yes, it was - You replied, your voice carrying a mix of pain and vulnerability - My parents... they weren't the kindest people. They made it clear that they didn't want me and that I was a burden to them - You notice Azriel tracing his own scars, you didn't even notice the moment he took off his gloves.

-I'm so sorry you had to go through that - He says sincerely, a mixture of sympathy and understanding in his eyes.

-When I was young, I believed that if I stayed close to them or if I tried harder, they might change their minds, and start loving me or something. But one day... One day, I was talking to my mother while she was cooking. I didn't realize I was annoying her until she got angry. The next thing I knew, the hot oil spilled on me, and she didn't even try to help, not her, not my father. I was left with this scar after that - You took a deep breath as you felt Azriel's gentle touch tracing the contours of the burn in your neck, a silent gesture of support as he listened intently - I was probably six, maybe seven. It didn't take me long to run away until I found a mercenary. He took me in and trained me. I was supposed to be a mercenary too if Rhysand didn't find me. He hired me after some time and gave my tutor a place to live in Velaris. That's my sad story - You said with a dry laugh, trying to keep the tears that threatened to escape from your eyes. Azriel's heart aches for the pain you endured, and he reaches out to gently touch your face, mirroring the care you showed him during his recovery.

-You are incredibly strong - He says sincerely - To survive such a difficult past and become the person you are now, it takes immense courage.

-And what about yours? We are basically burn buddies - He laughs at that, supporting his back on the window, looking deeply at you as you take his hand from your face and start to trace them - You don't have to tell me if you're not ready, too.

-No, I want to tell you - He replies, his voice steady - You've shared your pain with me, and it's only fair that I do the same. I was the bastard son of an Illyrian lord. For eleven years, I lived with my father, stepmother, and two older half-brothers. They were cruel and treated me like an outcast. They kept me in a cell with no windows or light, letting me out only for an hour a day to see my mother. I was forbidden to train or fly, even though my Illyrian instincts urged me to do so.

You bring your hand up to his arm, bringing him closer to your body as you circle him in a hug, feeling the tension disappearing from his body as he is visibly relaxed in your arms, embracing the warmth and comfort.

-One day, my half-brothers thought it would be fun to see what would happen if they mixed an Illyrian's quick healing gifts with fire. They poured oil on my hands and lit them on fire - Your eyes widened in surprise, not in a million years you would have imagined his story to be like this - The warriors heard my screams and rescued me, but it was too late to save my hands. I was left with these scars, a constant reminder of the cruelty I endured.

-I hope they are all dead - You said suddenly, your voice mixed with a tone you reserve for the ones you torture in the prison.

-One of them. And no, I won't tell you who they are just for you to kill them - He laughs when you ruff in annoyance - If so you would have to tell me who are your parents, so we can have a tie.

-Really? I would gladly do so - He laughs once again, the sound making your heart flutter in happiness. He takes a moment to compose himself before speaking again.

-At eleven, I was dumped in the Illyrian training camp, Windhaven, where I wasn't exactly well received due to my shadowsinging gifts. That's where I met Rhysand and Cassian. Rhysand's mother took me in, just as she did for Cassian. And when Rhysand became the High Lord of the Night Court, I became his spymaster, part of the Inner Circle.

-I'm so sorry for what you went through. But know that you are not defined by your past, it was a lesson it took me some time to understand. You are strong, compassionate, and resilient, a testament to the person you've become. And your scars, just like mine, tell a story of resilience and survival. We should be proud of the people we've become despite our pasts.

-Yes, we should. And I couldn't be prouder of what we've become - He gets out of your embrace, taking your hand in his, reveling in the feel.

-You're right. We make a great team, burn buddies, if so - You hear a chuckle and let your own laugh fill the room - I'm grateful for every mission we've shared, you know.

-I'm grateful too, more than words can say. You've shown me kindness, trust, and loyalty. You've helped me heal in ways I didn't think were possible - Azriel's other hand moved from his side to cup your cheek tenderly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

-And you've done the same for me. Your strength and understanding have been my anchor through it all - At that moment, you felt an unspoken connection that went beyond your shared experiences as spies. It was a bond forged through trust, support, and compassion.

As you trace gentle patterns on Azriel's hand, he gazes at you with affection and admiration. He can't help but be captivated by your strength and resilience, your ability to face your past head-on and still maintain a kind and caring heart. Something he couldn't do. His past hunted him as a monster, the shame he felt on his hands growing every time he looked at them. But you?

-You're incredible - He whispers, his voice barely above a breath. You looked up at him, shocked by his sudden words, but your eyes were shimmering with gratitude.

-And you're just as incredible - You reply with a smile playing on your lips - I always admired you. It was nice knowing you always chose me to go with you, it's also nice spending time with you.

-I always chose you because we make a great duo - You murmur "burn buddies" again, but he doesn't laugh this time, his eyes still admiring you. He turns his hand and entangles it with your - You're beautiful. You always told me that, and now I can say it back.

At that moment, the air around you feels charged with an undeniable attraction. You both sense it, the magnetic pull that draws you closer. Without another word, Azriel leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. Your lips move together in a dance of longing and desire, your emotions pouring into the embrace. The weight of your shared experiences, the understanding of each other's pain, and the warmth of your feelings culminate in this moment.

The kiss deepens, and you lose yourselves in each other, forgetting the world outside as you explore the depths of your needs. Azriel's hand gently cradles your face, his thumb caressing your scarred cheek, while your fingers find their way into his hair, pulling him closer.

Your bodies move closer in the window seat, the space between you disappearing as you seek comfort and intimacy in each other's arms. The tension that had been building between you for years finds its release, and you become lost in the sensation of being with someone who understands you on a level you never thought possible.

As you pull away, your breaths mingling, you meet each other's eyes, the intensity of the moment shining brightly. Without words, you share an unspoken understanding as he starts undoing the stripes and buttons of your armor and you start to take off the layers of his. Your lips connect again as he pulls you to his lap and walks you towards the bed, taking off the rest of your clothes as well as his.

Your heated make-out session evolves into a night filled with passion while you share your bodies, as you find the solace and belonging you've been searching for, a love that heals your wounds and ignites a fire within your hearts. When he looked at the rest of your scars, that went down until your shoulder and took a bit of your collarbone his eyes became feral with lust. From the moment he bent down and kissed each piece of skin that was covered with burn wounds, you knew that you are completely fucked.

After your initial heated encounter, you and Azriel decide that your night together was a product of vulnerability and a need for comfort in the moment. You both acknowledge the dangers of getting involved romantically, especially as spies working in a world filled with secrets and risks.

-We can't afford distractions - Azriel had once said, his voice tinged with concern - Our focus needs to be on the missions and keeping each other safe.

-You're right. We can't let our emotions get in the way of what we do - In that moment you had nodded in agreement, understanding the practicality of his words.

Both of you agree to keep your relationship strictly professional, even though your hearts yearn for more. However, as the days pass, you find it increasingly challenging to resist the pull you feel toward each other. Your missions become more dangerous, and the stakes are higher than ever. During chaos and uncertainty, you find comfort and solace in each other's arms.

It starts with small moments, a touch on the arm here, a lingering glance there. You become each other's safe haven, the one constant in a world filled with unpredictability. And despite your resolve, once you go back to your normal life in Velaris, you find yourselves in each other's bed again, seeking solace in the connection you share. The passion and intimacy between you intensifies with each encounter, and you start to realize that they can't deny the love that has grown between you.

As the days turn into weeks, you find yourselves entangled in each other more times than you could count, each encounter pulling you closer together. You've become inseparable in your free time, if it's you in his studio while he practices his painting, or if it's him in your house while you practice dancing, your lives become intertwined both on and off the field.

The morning sun gently filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room as Azriel stirs awake. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, he finds himself lying beside you in your room once again, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He traces his fingers gently along the curves of your body, admiring the lines that define your form. The faint light reveals the outline of your burn mark, a testament to your strength and resilience. Azriel's heart swells with affection for you, knowing the hardships you have endured and the courage you carry within.

As his fingers gently explore, you stir from your slumber, your eyes slowly opening to meet his gaze. You see the adoration in his eyes and the reverence with which he touches you. A blush tinges on your cheeks, but you don't look away, instead, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his touch even more.

-You're awake - You murmur, your voice soft but still rough from the slumber. Azriel leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead before he meets your eyes again.

-Yes, I am. And I can't help but marvel at the sight before me - Your heart flutters at his words, and you intertwine your fingers with him, pulling his hand to your lips to leave a tender kiss.

-You have a way with words, Shadowsinger. But actions speak louder - With a soft chuckle, Azriel leans in, capturing your lips in a deep and loving kiss. Your mouths move in perfect harmony, conveying all the unspoken emotions between you. When you finally break apart, your foreheads rest gently against each other's, your breaths mingling.

-I never expected this - You admit, your voice tinged with wonder - But I'm grateful for every moment we shared.

-As am I. You've brought light into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you - You stay entwined, basking in each other's presence, knowing that you've found something rare and precious.

-What if we sleep in today? I don't think we need to get out of bed - He laughs and leans closer to you, the skin contact makes you shiver - I don't know, it's cold today, maybe we can help each other and warm ourselves up.

-I don't think Rhysand will appreciate it if his two best spies disappeared from his view - But he doesn't make a movement to get out of bed, instead, he starts kissing the back of your neck, slowly going under the covers. That way you know you win the discussion, the same way you did many times before.

Every time you find yourself in Azriel's arms, you feel like you can face the world, one day at a time, knowing that you have his heart to hold onto and a love that burns brighter than any shadow you've ever known. Years of shared missions, trust, and understanding have led you to this moment of realization. You are not just good together as partners, but you have discovered a deeper connection, a love born from empathy and shared experiences.

-Thank you - He comes up suddenly, interrupting his path to your legs - For being here, for understanding - With a soft smile, Azriel brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his voice tender as he speaks - I think we've found something extraordinary in each other.

-I believe you're right, shadow boy - You reply, before the smile completely disappears from your face - But this is not time to be sentimental. First, you eat your snack, and then we can talk about how much we love each other - You push his head under the covers again, hearing his laugh before his mouth finds its way to you.

That stupid promise of a one-time thing was nothing more than a futile attempt to deny the love that had grown between you. You couldn't fight it any longer, your hearts made the decision for yourselves a long time ago. You were partners - mates - in every sense of the word, bound not just by the missions, but by a love that has proven to be stronger than any obstacle in your path.

Hello!! Do you think you could right a sort of enemies to lovers relationship with Azriel? Maybe where he and the reader get into a heated argument, and the bond snaps when the tension hits its peak? If this doesn’t inspire you, please don’t feel as though you have to accept my request! This is my first attempt at making a request, so I apologize if I did it incorrectly. Also, I wanted to note that your writing style is one of my favorites, and I hope you are proud of your work! That’s all, thank you for your time!!

THE SOOOOOOOOOONG

Listen to it please thank you

Loved your request, darling, it's actually much better when you send the whole story, I usually struggle when I try to think of a whole story alone (I swear I'm creative but it's hard to get things in your head out of nothing)

I try to be proud of my work as much as I can, thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

THIS WORK was sooooooo fun to do, I swear at some moment while I was writing this I laughed at my own story, super cool

I thought: "I'm gonna make this super serious" amd ended up with this, which is much better

This Is Love

Your family always meant everything to you. Being Rhysand's cousin meant you would be inserted in everything he did. Being his second in command meant you would be involved in every plan. And being all of that meant you would be part of his Inner Circle, which automatically involved you in everything they did together. From training, to family dinner and trips around the Courts for the meetings, you did all together. And you loved it. Again, your family meant everything to you, and spending time with them was on your top list of favorite things to do. I mean, when a certain Shadowsinger wasn't completely involved.

Working with Azriel was always fine, perfectly fine, actually. Rhysand often paired you up together to work because everything fell into place with the two of you. Your mind always seemed to think like one. But that teamwork only made itself present when the topic was your position towards the court and your job. Outside that, you both were a mess. Training with him was a dread, from him pinpointing each - non-existent - mistake, to you lashing yourself on him each time he made you angry, it's been more than 250 years of both of you trying to win one another in the training. It never happened.

Family dinner was also horrible since both of you had very different visions in every single topic someone started, not just that, somehow, no matter how many times you and Azriel changed seats with someone, it doesn't take a week until you find yourselves seated next to each other again. On top of that, you and he possess the ability to winnow, yet, Rhysand always thought it was necessary for you to winnow together. No matter how many times you said it wasn't necessary, Rhys only ignored you, the necessity of traveling with him making you hate your life just a little bit more.

But if spending time with your family was on your top favorite things to do, game night with Azriel was on your top things to make yourself miserable. It was a common scene for the rest of the Inner Circle to see you and him screaming at each other at some point. Sometimes one of you thought the other was cheating. Sometimes you started saying the other was winning too many times and should be taken out of the game. Sometimes it was the complete opposite, "if you lose so much, maybe you should step back and stop occupying space". Tonight it wasn't different, your favorite fight was ready to start as Azriel explained the rules to the new game.

Besides the usual crackling tension between you and Azriel, this night seemed to be at its worst peak. For weeks now, both of you seemed to be on the edge with one another, even in work, your usual camaraderie was replaced with sharp remarks and piercing glares. Everyone around the table exchanged puzzled looks, uncertain of what exactly had caused this escalating feud.

Azriel couldn't understand why every word from you grated on his nerves, nor could you fathom why Azriel's mere presence felt suffocating. The build-up of unresolved emotions and unspoken desires had been simmering for days, and now, it was about to reach its boiling point.

The Night Court's game night had started off innocently enough with your usual truth or drink game, something to light up tension (or build it, in your and Azriel's case), but as the evening wore on, the tension between you and Azriel became palpable as the Shadowsinger tried to introduce a new idea to the table. It began with a harmless disagreement over the rules of a card game, but it quickly escalated into a heated argument once the match started.

Azriel's patience was wearing thin as you challenged every decision he made during the game, the cards he dropped and the ones he chose, everything seemed horrible in your eyes. The other way around too, your matches weren't valid, you couldn't pick certain cards and no, it wasn't your turn yet. His usually calm demeanor was now strained, and he couldn't help but feel irritated by your persistent need to question him.

-I don't understand why you always have to question everything I do - Azriel snapped at some point, his shadows flickering around him as a testament to his growing frustration.

-Maybe if you didn't act like you knew everything, I wouldn't have to. "Boo, I'm Azriel and I don't let people play the game because I invented it and none of you understand how to play it" - You quickly shot back, their voice laced with sarcasm

The room fell silent, and your friends exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the mounting tension between the two of you. But there was no going back now; the floodgates had opened, and all the pent-up emotions were rushing to the surface.

-I don't act like I know everything, and I don't talk like that - Azriel retorted, his voice tight with anger - I just wish you'd stop acting like you have all the answers! Sometimes it is okay to listen to help because, guess what? I indeed invented the game and there's no way of you learning how to play it, if you don't listen to the rules!

-Well, forgive me for not blindly following you like everyone else. I'm not afraid to question things when they don't make sense! - Your eyes narrowed, jaw clenching as you shot back.

-And I'm not afraid to take action instead of endlessly debating every damn decision! - Azriel's temper flared, his wings twitching in agitation.

-I think what you're really good at is fucking my life! - Your family gasped at your words, shocked by the intensity.

-It's just a payback for every headache you give me every time you breathe near me - They quickly turned their heads to Azriel, equally shocked by his response.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, it seemed as if you were both about to explode. Your family exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to intervene in the escalating argument. But just as the situation reached its breaking point, a strange shift occurred. As Azriel locked eyes with you, an unexpected intensity replaced your anger. It was as if the universe itself had decided to step in, forcing you to confront the undeniable truth.

The room seemed to blur around you as you stood there, chests heaving from the heated exchange. The fight had reached its peak, and in that very moment, the mating bond snapped into place. The sudden connection was overwhelming, a rush of emotions and sensations that neither of you could comprehend. Your anger dissolved into confusion and shock as you felt an unexplainable pull towards each other.

Azriel's wings, once tense and defensive, now softened, as if beckoning every step you unknowingly took closer. Your guard came down as well, replaced by a mix of vulnerability and curiosity.

Your friends watched in astonishment as two adversaries stood there, seemingly lost in a world of their own. The room is filled with a charged silence, the kind that accompanies a revelation that changes everything. Even if none of them knew exactly what revelation was going on at that moment.

But as the realization set in, Rhysand and Feyre exchanged knowing smiles. It was no secret for them that you and Azriel had an underlying connection, a bond waiting to be acknowledged. They had witnessed the chemistry and unspoken feelings simmering between the two of you, and now, it seemed the universe had decided to intervene.

Your eyes met Azriel's once again, and this time, there was no irritation or hostility. Instead, there was an undeniable spark of understanding and attraction, a recognition of the emotions that you had been hiding from each other. Neither of you spoke a word, yet you communicated on a deeper level, the mating bond solidifying your connection at each passing second. It was as if all the walls you had built around your heart came crashing down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to him.

As the reality of the mating bond settled in, your heart raced with confusion and fear. You couldn't understand why fate would choose someone you had built such animosity towards to be your mate. Feeling overwhelmed and unable to face the truth, you turned around and ran, needing time and space to process the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Azriel, though taken aback and hurt by the sudden rejection, couldn't ignore the pull of the bond drawing him to you. With determination, he chased after your steps, his heart heavy with worry and longing. He caught up to you as you were getting closer to your room. Gently reaching out to touch your shoulder, you recoiled as if his touch burned.

-Please, let's talk - Azriel pleaded, his voice tinged with sadness - I never wanted to hurt you. The fights... They were a defense mechanism, a way to hide my own feelings and protect myself from the pain of loving someone who seemed to hate me. You started this, I just… Thought I should defend myself.

-But why you? Why did it have to be you? - You whispered, voice breaking with emotion. Azriel's eyes softened, and he took a step closer, his hand hovering near your face, yearning for the connection you both feared and desired.

-I wish I had an answer for that. All I know is that the bond doesn't choose who we love, it just binds us to our other half. And for some inexplicable reason, it chose us - He could see the pain in your eyes and knew that he needed to be honest, to show vulnerability despite his fears of rejection - The truth is, the more you fought me, the more I fell for you. Your fire, your strength, everything about you drew me in. But I was terrified of what it meant, so I pushed you away.

-I didn't know what to do with my feelings either - You admitted, opening a place in your heart that you swear to never look at again - I tried to convince myself that I hated you, but it only made things worse. Every fight, every argument, it was just a way to hide how much I… I wanted to be by your side. Everything was simple with them but you? You made me feel things and I didn't want it - Azriel's heart ached at your words, and he took a step closer, finally touching your cheek gently.

-We can figure this out together. I don't want to fight anymore. I want to be here for you, to understand you, and for you to understand me - Tears finally spilled from your eyes, as you looked into Azriel's soulful gaze, feeling the sincerity of his words.

-It won't be easy, but maybe we can try - You gave in, hugging him tightly, filling the void in your soul that you ignored for so long.

You and Azriel knew that you had a journey ahead, to step down from the fights and finally accept the truth that maybe, just maybe, you both were meant to be. Even in disagreement you found a way to each other. Although you would definitely keep your provocations going and Azriel would stay at your feet for anything you did, that was your way of loving and for the first time you were fine knowing what tomorrow would bring.

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[Post-Credit Scene]

The Inner Circle sat around the table, looking perplexed and bewildered after the explosive game night that had just taken place. None of them could quite wrap their heads around what had unfolded. Nestha glanced at Cassjan, who raised an eyebrow, silently communicating his own confusion. Feyre and Rhysand seemed to be the only ones who understood the situation, but none of them made a move to say something as they kept talking to each other in their minds.

-So, did anyone understand what just happened? I mean, they are usually weird around each other but… This weird? It's worrying - The general scratched his head and finally gathered the courage to say something.

-Beats me. The brute is right. But I have to admit, seeing them argue like that is always quite entertaining. It's the only reason I've been coming for the past centuries, honestly - Amren replied with a snarl, eyes rolling as she threw her cards on the table.

-Oh, for sure! It was like watching a drama unfold right in front of us every week. But I can't believe they just bolted like that. Do you think they're okay? - Mor inquired, a mix of amusement and worry kicking in.

-If I had to bet I would say they are killing each other - Cassian said, playing with the deck of cards.

-Or fucking - Nestha chimed in with a laugh - I mean, when I didn't accept the mating bond with Cassian I acted exactly like them. If you don't understand the feeling you might as well hurt the person you hold those feelings for - Everyone seemed to agree as the bets started to grow around the table.

-Knowing those two, they probably needed some time alone to sort things out. Maybe it's an understanding finally kicking in - Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with mischief - The group exchanged curious glances, trying to understand their High Lord.

-Well, whatever it is, we can't say it was unimportant. That was probably the most explosive family game night we've ever had - Feyre couldn't help but add with a grin.

Just then, the door to the game room creaked open, and you walked in with Azriel by your side, hand in hand, with smiles on your faces. The Inner Circle's jaws dropped in disbelief as they took in the sight in front of them.

-What the...? How did you...? What? - Cassian sputtered, at a loss for words.

-You know, it's funny how things work out sometimes - Azriel looked around at their stunned faces and chuckled.

-Yeah, we had a little heart-to-heart and sorted some things out. Turns out, we had a lot of misunderstandings to clear up - You and Azriel smiled at each other, making the whole Inner Circle shocked.

-So, you two aren't going to be at each other's throats anymore? - Amren raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming.

-Oh, we definitely will - You said when you looked back at them, your head finding its way to Azriel's shoulder.

-Just not today - He said and kissed you head, hearing some gasps from the table.

-Are we witnessing a truce? - Mor whispered to the General, who just shuddered, as confused as her.

-Let's just say we have a newfound understanding of each other - Azriel replied, you and him sharing a knowing look.

-Well, that's a relief! We were starting to wonder if you two were going to start a war right here in the Night Court - Feyre laughed, reaching out for her mate's hand.

-Glad to see you've made up. Just... maybe tone it down during future game nights? - Rhysand smiled after clearly speaking mind to mind with the Shadowsinger.

-Okay, so… the rules of the game? - Nestha questioned, her cards still secured in her hands.

-It doesn't matter right now, you can choose it - Az said, making everyone turn their eyes to him. Shock covered every face in the room. Never, in their lives, do they think Azriel would give up on something. They turned their eyes to you, expecting some remark.

-Yeah, you guys can keep going - A wave of gasps and terrorized looks were exchanged between your family - I think Az might be hungry, aren't you?

-I might be. Will you make me something? - He asked, getting so close to you that your noses almost touched.

-It will be my pleasure - You said before dragging him towards the kitchen, not even noticing the mouths of the Inner Circle opened.

-Uh uh, no. I prefer the war. Tell them to come back and fight again, I don't like the way things worked - Mor leaned back in her chair, disbelief covering her posture.

-You know what? I think this interaction was more scary than the Cauldron - Amren said, finally giving up her cards as she threw them on the table.

-Come on, it can't be that bad, right? - All of the older members looked at Nestha with scared faces, even Rhysand, who knew exactly what happened between the two of you - Okay, apparently it is.

-What do we do now? - Feyre finally asked after silence filled the room.

-We hope that this Court doesn't crumble down - That was all that Rhysand said as he began separating the cards again, a whole new game starting that night.

Garden of Twilight: Part One

Pairing: Rhys x female!Reader

Wordcount: ~10.3k

A/N: I honestly did not believe the first part of this series would be as well received as it has been, but I'm so grateful you all loved it enough to want me to write more. Clearly, I wanted to write more, I had to break this one up into two parts because these characters just wouldn't stop talking to me. I hope you love it as much as I do, I'm sure part two will be just as long, if not longer. And a huge thank you to @redbleedingrose for her constant reassurance that it is, in fact, very good. So if you won't take my word for it, take hers.

Series Masterlist

     The days flow like fine wine into the early weeks of the new year.

     Once word spreads that the newly returned, very eligible High Lord frequents my bookshop, my customer count triples nearly overnight. It seems like one day, I’m keeping up with the flow of customers relatively well, and the next I’m meeting a female Rhys brings into the shop, hoping she can at least keep up with the piles of books continuously stacked on my desk to be reshelved. She’s dressed in Night Court attire, but it’s certainly on the more modest end of the spectrum, and she eyes the blush scarf covering my head with interest the moment she sets her eyes on me.

     Rhys introduces her as Hanita and, though she doesn’t shake my hand, her smile is bright when I greet her. All around us, customers wander up and down the stairs and pick through the shelves, giving my typically quiet, lovely shop the appearance of a bustling beehive. I don’t know how much of this I’ll be able to stand, it’s easily three times the volume of my busiest day last year.

     “Do you have any work experience?” I ask brightly. Hanita tugs at the end of her thick, dark braid as her sharp, russet eyes dart between the levels, following each one up to the glass ceiling.

     “I helped my mother with her stall at the market,” the female says warily, “but it was nothing like this. I can read well enough though, I think I can figure out where everything goes.”

     “Honestly, I’m not used to anything like this myself,” I tell her, gesturing to the crowd forming around the front desk. “The job’s yours if you want it, Cauldron knows we need the help. The female behind the counter is a volunteer, her name’s Mira. Go see if you can help her manage the crowd and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

     Once she’s immersed in the crowd, Rhys takes the opportunity to close the gap between us. His hands remain tucked casually in the pockets of his jacket, as unassuming as ever, but there’s a small smile playing on his full lips as he watches the crowd. I cross my arms and resist the urge to lean into him, though the urge grows harder to fight by the day. I can’t understand how anyone can stand within his orbit and not feel the same pull…though I suppose they do, judging by the amount of females that have been flitting about my shop for a glimpse at him.

     “What’s her story?” I ask carefully, taking a deep, calming breath to quiet my fluttering heart. It’s beginning to get a little warm beneath my scarf, but I can’t necessarily risk removing it while we’re so busy. “Where is she from?”

     “Illyria. One of the smaller war camps- well, what was one of the smaller war camps. What’s left of it’s been absorbed into Windhaven now. Hanita didn’t want to go back and I wasn’t inclined to force her.”

     “She’s Illyrian?” Thoughts of Rhysand’s general come to mind, specifically the magnificent wings he and the shadowsinger bear. “Where-” The cold look on his face leaves me disinclined to finish that sentence. A sick, sinking feeling settles into the pit of my stomach as the realization hits me. “Oh.”

     “Even with my best healers tending to her, it’s taken a few months to get her up and walking again.”

     “I won’t mention it again.” I reassure him, raising a hand to my lips. “I’m sorry.”

     “There’s no way you would have known if I hadn’t mentioned it. She’s healed far better than we’d expected, and I think she’s happy to be able to work again.” His arm brushes against mine and I take another steadying breath. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep my head when he’s this close to me. Any time the High Lord walks into the room, I momentarily forget that air is important, let alone remembering how to breathe. I thought it might get easier with time, but after my last vision, I feel like little more than a shy, fumbling child in his presence. “I’m finalizing the arrangements for her apartment today. Mor will be by later with the key and a copy of the lease agreement.”

     “Is it nearby?” I ask, running the tally in my head of how much a one bedroom apartment would cost, even on this side of the Sidra.

     “It’s only a few minutes north of here. Don’t worry about the cost, pay her whatever you can afford, the rest is taken care of.”

     “How…?” I ask, turning around to get a proper look at him. His face is neutral, but there’s a twinkle of mischief in his stunning violet eyes. “That’s incredibly kind, Rhys.”

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says lightly with a look at the clock. Not even he can hide the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, threatening to break the oh-so-professional High Lord mask he put on this morning, along with that black jacket. Surely his tailor has encouraged him to expand his color range beyond such a lonely color by now. “I’m sorry, I have a meeting I can’t miss. Will I see you later?”

     “If you want.” I shrug, turning back to the growing crowd around my front desk. “I better go sort out the horde before my help runs screaming. You know where to find me.”

     “I do.” His fingers catch the sleeve of my teal jacket. I turn back to see Rhys looking down at me, his brows knit in concern or consternation, I can’t decide which is more accurate. “I would like to have dinner with you tonight. If you’re free, of course.”

     I tilt my head as I study this fearsome High Lord, wanting to meet me for dinner if I’m not busy. What a strange companionship we’ve built over the last several weeks. My eyes flit to the fingers still holding onto my jacket and they immediately fall away, retreating to the safety of his jacket pocket. He hasn’t touched me much since the night he walked me home, in some ways that night feels like it was nothing more than a strange dream. I wear the gloves he’d given me as a reminder that it was not, in fact, all in my head, and we speak nearly every day. I wish I could decide what it is he keeps coming back for.

     The image of the back of my hand covered with that delicate, swirling tattoo flashes in my mind. What would he think if he knew of my vision? It feels wrong to keep it to myself, but I don’t know how to broach the topic. Or if I should. The future is ever-changing, after all, evolving with the whims of those who live it. I shouldn’t be so attached to that vision, but I can’t say the idea is unappealing. It doesn’t take a genius to see the High Lord is a good male who loves his territory.

     Any female would be lucky to have him.

     “It’s all right if you’re busy,” Rhys begins with a small smile and I quickly shake my head, my face heating as I realize precisely how long I’ve been staring at him.

     “No! No, sorry, I’m not busy. It’s…been a long morning,” I mumble, glancing back towards the crowd. “Sorry. Dinner would be lovely, High Lord-”

     “-Rhys-

     “-right, yes, sorry again. Rhys. I’d love dinner. I’m sorry, I should really be getting back-”

     “Go,” he says with a rich, quiet laugh, shaking his head at my obvious embarrassment. “I’ll check back in with you later. Your customers may stage a revolt if they don’t get their books. We certainly can’t have that.”

     “I don’t think they’re here for the books,” I mumble, glancing at the older females hovering at the edge of the group. They only look away when I make eye contact with the willowy one in the middle. How long had they been watching us? The deep chuckle rumbling in the High Lord’s chest rolls through me like thunder. I try to suppress the shiver that runs the length of my spine at the sound of it.

     “Truly, the books are only half of the appeal.” I giggle and turn to ask him what he meant by that, but he’s already through the door, the bell tinkling merrily after him. When I turn back to see the confused looks of the patrons who had been watching us, it dawns on me that he hadn’t spoken the words aloud. My fingers graze my scarf as I check to ensure it’s still in place, not that it would be remotely useful against a daemati. I hadn’t even felt him slip into my mind, but I suppose I wouldn’t know what to look for in the first place.

     I really don’t have the time to be puzzling over this, not with this many people in my shop. I slip behind the desk to relieve Mira, whose crinkled amber eyes dance as she cedes the till to me and drops a stack of books into Hanita’s arms before she bustles the young female off towards the staircase. I throw myself into assisting each of my customers with a smile, even the ones with more impolite questions regarding the High Lord’s presence. Honestly, it’s hard to focus all of my attention on them when I feel the deck of cards at my hand tugging insistently at me. Clearly they have something to say, but I don’t have time or space to indulge them.

     We don’t have a moment to breathe until the shop finally empties in the middle of the afternoon. Mira collapses into a chair near the fire with an audible sigh, sweat-damp wisps of graying hair that have slipped from her practical updo fan around her face.

     “It isn’t always like this?” Hanita asks, wiping her brow with the sleeve of her top. I laugh and shake my head, gesturing broadly towards the chair opposite Mira and the cushions surrounding the low table before finally retrieving my cards from the desk.

     “I promise it’s not, well, it hasn’t been. I’d like to believe it will all settle down soon enough.”

     “Will you still need help if it does?”

     “Mother’s sake, child, have you seen the size of this place?” Mira asks drily as she stretches her legs out before her. “Of course she needs the help, she’s needed the help for a while. You’ll give my old bones a rest and give her the opportunity to take more than a day off.”

     “I’m fine,” I insist with a sigh as I settle myself at the table. The older female opens her mouth to argue, but the bell above the door tinkles and all three sets of eyes turn to it. Roz hobbles in with a tray of tea, a wide grin on her face, and Hanita immediately sets off towards her, clearly intent on helping.

     “I wouldn’t try-” I start, but she doesn’t pay me any mind. Roz turns her calculating hazel eyes on the Illyrian female stalking towards her and jerks her chin back towards the table.

     “You’re new. Take a seat, girl, you look as if the vultures have thoroughly picked you over.”

     “I- sorry?”

     “You heard me, I said sit. Isn’t this the new girl Rhysand mentioned yesterday, savi?” Rhys made the mistake of giving my neighbor permission to use his name the first time they met, much to her delight. I wrinkle my nose at the old nickname and nod, making sure the table is clear enough for her to set the tray down. Hanita follows at her heels, a little dumbstruck, and I almost feel bad for her. Almost. She’d learn sooner or later with Roz that her help would only be appreciated if explicitly requested and not a moment sooner.

     “Her name is Hanita. Hanita, this is Roz, she and Achir own the cafe next door. They also fancy themselves matchmakers.” I shoot the brunette an apologetic smile as I remove my scarf and shuffle my cards, allowing my power to stretch after being contained for so long. “But I think it’s just an excuse to be nosy.”

     “Don’t listen to her,” the elder female says as she settles the tray on the table and begins to pour dark, richly spiced tea into the worn, chipped ceramic mugs she only uses here. “She’s a wicked thing. I have sent plenty of handsome males with hopes of courting her only to watch her turn them away in minutes. Minutes. Males can barely string together a coherent sentence is that little time-”

     “And that’s why I sent them away,” I reply archly, nudging the steaming mug towards the tray so there’s room for my cards to fall where they will. “You sent males who were nice enough, but could barely hold a casual conversation. How do you expect me to fall in love with someone I can’t converse with?”

     “Picky thing.”

     “I don’t know,” Hanita hedges, watching the cards jumping between my hands. “If you want to be loved, I think it’s brave to wait for it.”

     “Doesn’t everyone want to be loved?”

     “Love is nice, but it isn’t…necessary. I’d prefer a good male, someone kind who would be willing to protect and care for a family, should they have one. That is not always a given in matters of the heart.”

     “That is true,” I acquiesce, having seen one too many females my age fall in love with males who made no effort to care for them, to provide for them, to build a home with them. “But neither are they mutually exclusive. I believe you can have love and care. Love and commitment. One does not have to grow from another, you can have both if you’re willing to look for it.”

     A card falls out of the shuffling stack, landing face up. A chalice filled with storm clouds, a crack in the bottom of the glass where the water runs free. Chalices often represent emotions, love. My mother called this one heartstorm, trouble brewing beneath a thin surface that is sure to leak into the world. With enough pressure that chalice can break. When it’s reversed, it symbolizes pouring out one’s troubles, but upright? A storm contained, repressed, breaking the confines of its fragile cage.

     Whatever Hanita or the other ladies say next, I don’t hear it. Another card falls to the table.

     Eyes peering out of a swirling darkness. A nightmare given form. Danger lurking in the dark. Often not a physical danger unless paired with the throne of daggers, but a danger of the mind. Sadness, an encroaching darkness…the next card that falls is a mirror covered with moss and deadly mushrooms, seeing what is hidden within yourself. These three together? Becoming your own worst enemy. Finally, the card I’d been hoping would remain hidden slides out, a throne of battered daggers tipped in rich, dark crimson. Treachery, some sort of betrayal.

     Danger.

     “That looks bad,” Mira murmurs over my shoulder, and my heart leaps as the next card falls out. A pair of swans nestled together, a card that typically represents a happy mating bond, inverted…rejected. “Oh. It keeps getting worse.”

     “I don’t understand,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone here. “I don’t understand who this is-”

     Two cards fall out, their faces stuck together. I peel them apart to reveal the shooting star and the crown of dreams, both inverted. I’m struck with a vision of a dark-haired male sitting at the edge of a rumpled bed, his head in his hands. Traditional Illyrian tattoos span his tense shoulders and trail down his back on either side of his spine, a warrior’s markings on a frame that’s so thin, I can see ribs through the warm, brown flesh. Though I can’t see the male’s face, there’s no mistaking the High Lord of Night for anyone else.

     Oh, Rhys.

     “How can I help?” I whisper, more of a plea to a higher power than a legitimate question. I want to help, no, I need to help. He sacrificed fifty years of his life beneath that mountain, cut off from his territory, from his people, from his family and friends. He lost decades and still did not leave us unprotected. Surely there’s something we can do, something I can do, to ease whatever plagues him. Sadness, betrayal, a rejected mating bond. The sting that my idle comment about mates must have dealt. 

     The card that falls out next gives me an idea.

     I snatch it up and quickly put the rest of the cards back in the deck, clambering to my feet. I feel my scarf slip onto the floor, but I don’t have time to deal with it now. I’ll have to take the risk of being stricken with a vision on my errand, hopefully it will be quick. I drop my deck onto the desk and chance a quick look back at the ladies seated at the table, watching me with wide eyes.

     “I’ll be back in a moment, just…just watch the store, please?”

     “We promise not to burn it down,” Mira says with a small smile, waving me on as Roz looks mournfully at my abandoned tea. If I thought I could carry the mug and not slosh its contents all over me, I’d take it along. As it stands, I’d prefer not to wear it.

     “I promise to be back before the tea is cold! Don’t eat all of the fruit tarts!” I call over my shoulder as I snatch my cloak from the hook by the door and steal out into the last remnants of the cold winter sunshine. And run right into a willowy blonde female dressed in a lovely, royal purple cloak.

     “Oh!” The female’s voice is like a song, rich and vibrant, and I freeze when I realize I’ve heard it before. Slowly, so slowly, I follow the flowing lines of the cloak until I meet a pair of deep, velvety eyes. Her crimson lips curve into a smile as I step back, ducking my head in embarrassment.

     “Sorry, Lady Mor, I didn’t see you.”

     “I had gathered,” she says with a small laugh. “It’s just Mor, by the way. I don’t know that you’ve ever called me Lady Mor before, I don’t think I like it. I’m not sure if Rhys mentioned I’d be by, but he sent me with paperwork and keys for Hanita.”

     “Yes, she’s inside, they’ve just sat down for tea.”

     “You aren’t joining them?”

     “No, I have an errand of my own…but there is an untouched mug that was meant for me, if you’d like to have it instead.”

     “I just might. I was hoping to speak with you a bit, if I’m honest.”

     “Oh? Do you need to order a book?”

     “No, nothing like that,” Mor says, her smile melting into something fond, almost wistful as she looks at me. “I heard my cousin has been spending some time in your shop.”

     “Oh, that. You know how bored people love to gossip. He comes in to read or peruse the shelves, we talk a little, then he goes on his way. It’s nothing, truly.” The words tumble out of me in a hurry to dispel whatever reservations she might have about our relationship, or what others may have perceived our relationship to be. I know I wouldn’t be the first person in anyone’s mind as a match for the High Lord. I’m too common, without even a whisper of noble blood in my lineage; and, though I’m lovely in my own right, I don’t possess the sort of beauty that might attract a male of such standing.

     “Nothing?” she asks, blonde brows rising as she looks at me, her head tilted as if in thought. “Hmm, what a shame. I was thinking you would be a wonderful friend for him to have made.”

     “Oh, well…we are friendly, and I appreciate his company. People have been implying something more and I didn’t want you to think I had…mmm, aspirations. I don’t.”

     “Aspirations,” Mor echoes thoughtfully. I get a brief flash of the eyes in the dark peering up at me from the stack of cards and shake my head, running my thumb over the design of the card I’m clutching.

     “Yes, I- oh, I’m sorry, I really must go. This is a little time sensitive, I think.”

     “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll go in and make myself comfortable, if you intend to be back soon?”

     “I hope to be!” I say as I step around her, flashing a smile before I continue north towards the Rainbow.

     The first shop I stop at is at the edge of the brightly colored arts district. It occupies the bottom floor of a worn, slightly crooked building on the corner of a sleepy intersection. In warmer weather, all of the buildings in this section of town are typically covered in vines of jasmine and moonflowers. If I were ever to give up the cottage, I would want to live in one of the apartments here, with their lovely courtyards and walking distance to the communal garden beds. I tuck that dream away and slip through the weathered teal door into the shadowy embrace of the shop.

     It’s not very large or remotely well lit. The only light source is a large, beautiful hanging brass lantern that mostly illuminates the service counter and the few shelves that line the wall nearby containing little enchanted trinkets. Silver music boxes, small toy boxes with illusions to entertain small children, linked mirrors for communication over a long distance, bottles used to contain a loved one’s scent.

     “Who’s there?” a reedy voice breaks through my observation and draws my attention to the hunched old male behind the counter, staring up at me through large, round glasses with lenses thicker than the bottom of a wine bottle. His blue eyes are hazy and he squints in spite of the spectacles to make out my face as I step up to the counter. “Ah, welcome back! It’s been ages since you were in. How did that book light serve you?”

     “Oh, it works wonderfully, thank you.” I’d given that little iron bookmark with the ball of faelight to Mira nearly a decade ago now. It’s a wonder he remembered it when I had nearly forgotten it myself. “I was wondering if you could do something similar in a bit of a rush.”

     I lay out my idea for him, showing him the card in my hand and explaining the other shop I intend to go into for the piece he’ll need to enchant. The male hums under his breath and sets about leaving through books for the proper enchantments and writes out the total on a receipt that I happily give him the gold for.

     “It won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon,” he warns me as he drops the money in his till. “Come as late as you can stand it. I have a large order for self-cleaning paint brushes I’ll need to finish first.”

     “I’ll come after I close the bookshop for the day. Thank you so much for your help, I know this is last minute.”

     “Think nothing of it, rush orders guarantee I stay in business. Hurry now, I know that artisan. She’s a lazy girl who looks for any reason to close up.”

     “Thank you!” I tell him on my way out, suppressing a laugh to the best of my ability. I hope no one ever says such things about me. Soon I’m winding through the rainbow, darting around all manner of fae as they peruse the galleries and bakeries and workshops, until I find the shop with a wall of glass facing the streets. Beautiful lanterns hang from display hooks in an array of sizes and colors, some fashioned of brass and copper, others of pure gold and platinum. They’re lovely, but they’re not quite what I’m looking for, so I step inside to look at the tables.

     “Hello!” The fire nymph behind the counter greets me with a small wave. Looking into her wide eyes is like staring into molten lava, the way they shift in the lamplight is almost like the golds and oranges and blacks churning and flowing within the confines of her irises. “Welcome! Have you been in before?”

     “Oh, no, I haven’t. I normally stand outside and look at your displays, but today I actually came to shop. I’m looking for something small that might sit on a nightstand? I’m having it charmed, the enchanter said brass might be the best to ensure longevity.”

     “Any specific colors in mind?”

     “Oh, no, I really need to deliver it to the other shop today.”

     “That won’t be a problem, but I’m afraid I have a variety of colors. Is it meant to be a gift or is it for you?”

     “A gift. If you have anything in blue, the darker the better, or maybe…maybe violet. If you have a design with stars…”

     “Well, this is Velaris, isn’t it?” The nymph laughs, tossing her long, wavy copper hair over a slim shoulder. I show her the card in my hand, motioning to the elements of it I was hoping to imitate, and she nods eagerly. “Hold on, I have a few lamps in the back I’ve just finished that sound like what you may be looking for.”

     She disappears behind a wooden door near far back corner and I hear her rummaging around back there for quite some time until, finally, she reappears with a small, beautiful lantern crafted out of dark brass with small star cutouts and glass that fades from rose to violet to deep, vibrant sapphire, a perfect imitation of the darkening night sky. It’s absolutely perfect.

     “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, lightly trailing the tip of my finger along the edge of one of the panes.

     “What do you think, is it the one?”

     “Oh, yes, I think it’s perfect. I’ll take it.” I willingly hand over the last of the gold in my purse in exchange for a box with the carefully wrapped lantern. Once I’ve dropped it off with the enchanter and made my way back to my little shop, it’s much later than I’d anticipated and the sun is low in the sky. There are a few customers milling about the upper levels, and Hanita is wandering around the third floor with a stack of books tucked in the crook of her arm while Mira minds the desk, perched on a stool I typically keep tucked away.

     “That was quite an errand,” the older female remarks as she watches me hang my coat back on the hook by the door. “Roz went back to the cafe, but you have company waiting with more tea. Hope you’re hungry, she brought enough fruit tarts to feed an army.”

     “Thanks, Mira. Sorry I’m so late,” I murmur, tucking my card back in with the deck on the desk and rewrapping it before I head back to the table before the fire. Mor is curled on one of the thicker cushions with her arms braced on the table as she looks through a thin book bound in worn blue leather. Not one of mine, I would have remembered if I sold it to her. A mug of tea sits near her right hand, lighter than the pot I’d left behind, smelling of sweet honey and raspberries. There is a box near the teapot and spare mug filled with fruit tarts and sweet rolls that brings my stomach roaring to life. I hadn’t realized how much of an appetite I’ve worked up.

     “Welcome back,” Mor says, glancing up at me with a warm grin. “I’m afraid we did, in fact, eat the last of the fruit tarts. But I ordered more! The boys will be glad to eat what we don’t.”

     “Will they?” I flop down onto one of the cushions with a sigh, my back and feet aching from all of the running around I’d done. As Mor fills the empty cup for me, I pluck my nicely folded scarf from the corner of the table and begin to drape it over my head again.

     “Oh yes. By boys, I do mean almost exclusively Cassian. Azriel might get one if he’s lucky, and Rhys…well, from what Roz said, he prefers the nut rolls.”

     “He does,” I murmur, unable to keep the smile from my face. On the mornings Rhys has dropped by the cafe first, he always comes bearing one of Roz’s fresh nut rolls that fills the building with the scent of toasted pecans and the lovely thin, sweet caramel glaze I’ve never been able to replicate. I think she’s even begun to make them more than once a day, just so she’s prepared with a fresh batch any time he might come by. I raise the steaming tea to my lips once the cup is full and happily sip the sweet brew.

     Then I look up to find Mor watching me with a smile of her own. I clear my throat and place the tea back on the table in favor of a fruit tart filled with dark, lush berries commonly found in Illyria. The coarse sugar Roz used to top the tart creates a lovely contrast with the buttery, flaky crust and rich fruit filling. These are my favorite of her winter tarts, so I take my time working my way through one while the High Lord’s cousin continues to leaf through her book, grinning to herself. Once I finish, I clear my throat.

     “You wanted to speak to me, Mor?”

     “I did.” The book before her closes with a slight creak and vanishes with a wave of her hand. “I wanted to thank you, actually. For being so kind to Rhys and making him feel welcome in your shop.”

     “You’re thanking me for being kind to the High Lord?” I ask, furrowing my brow as I stare at her.

     “No,” the blonde says with a small laugh, shaking her head. “I am thanking you for being kind to Rhysand, my cousin. If you do not already know there is a difference between the two, I believe you’ll discover it quickly.”

     “He is always both,” I tell her with a shrug before admitting, “but the majority of his recent visits have been more casual in nature, friendly. I…I think we’re becoming friends, or something like that.”

     “I think you are,” Mor agrees. “I think that’s precisely what he needs, a friend. Someone separate from his duties to his court, who can just be there. It’s important to have that sort of separation, especially after…everything he’s been through.”

     “Has he, uhm…talked about it with you?” All of that lost time would weigh on anyone. And, truly, none of us have any idea what was happening in Amarantha’s court beyond what little had been said in the High Lord’s absence. Though I have not seen any physical scars left from the experience, he remains pale and drawn most of the time, carrying out his duty to the court and seemingly deriving little joy from it. From the little I’ve observed, he goes through the motions much like an enchanted toy.

     “Only once. I expect you haven’t really discussed it, have you?”

     “No. We talk about books or philosophy, I’m always surprised by how voraciously he reads anything I recommend.”

     “Rhys always loved books,” she says, her smile turning fond. “When we were children, we’d spend a lot of time in the Hewn City family library to escape our fathers and court duties. There was nothing he wouldn’t read, I’m happy to hear that hasn’t changed. Rhys likes to think and he likes to be challenged, he’s never liked having anything handed to him. Well, except maybe Roz’s nut rolls, apparently.”

     I chuckle into my tea as I take another sip, weighing the information in my mind. Yes, that all sounds like the male I’ve been getting to know. The few notes I’ve managed to observe him taking over his reading have been riddled with questions and smudged ink, as he often formed new ideas in the middle of the note he was already making. I imagine it would be infuriating for anyone else to try and make sense of.

     “Yes, I think I’ve noticed that as well. We were discussing a chapter of a philosophy book he was reading the other day, something about freedom, I think. Something about what it means to be free and do we truly have free will within the confines of a society- honestly, I don’t recall how that conversation ended. I remember thinking that he does love to try and see all sides of an argument.”

     “Like a dog with a bone,” she agrees, taking a bite of her own tart. “I think he likes the satisfaction of knowing he may have influenced an opinion by providing any and every available argument, even if the outcome was the same.”

     “Why do you think that is?”

     “Oh, I know why that is. Residents of Velaris and the smaller villages have a very different view of the High Lord than Hewn City residents, and that’s amplified tenfold anywhere beyond the borders of our territory. Especially now. I don’t think he enjoys knowing there are people who believe him, and the rest of us, to be monstrous based on rumors or outdated information on how our court was ruled. It’s partially our fault, in some respects. To keep Velaris as a safe haven, in the past our court has deemed it necessary to perpetuate those ideals, but after what happened- what he had to do to keep us safe…I don’t know, but I think his perspective may be changing.”

     “That sounds heavy,” I murmur, breaking off a piece of crust to keep my hands busy.

     “It can be. He’s always insisted it’s his burden to bear, any time a hard call had to be made, and I’m certain he stands by that statement to this day.”

     “So why are you telling me this?”

     “Because you have decided to be his friend,” she says lightly, “which is wonderful. You are so kind, and I believe he needs and deserves that kindness, especially now. I suppose I want to urge you to walk into this relationship, however it may unfold, with your eyes wide open. His path is not an easy one, and sometimes it can be difficult to walk at his side. It is a hard truth that it is not for everyone, he is not for everyone, but I hope that does not deter you.”

     “It does not,” I say, glancing up from my tart. When I meet Mor’s gaze, I get the sense that she’s looking into the heart of me, verifying the truth of my words. After a long, silent moment, she gives a short nod and smiles a little to herself as she takes another sip of her tea.

     “Then I hope to see you around more often. Now, tell me, is there anything new in the romance section? Anything at all. I’m dying for something new to read, but I feel as though I’ve read every book on the shelf twice over.”

     “Not yet,” I tell her with an apologetic smile. “I’ve heard from some of our local printers that there will be a few new releases next month for me to stock, but it’s looking more barren than usual these days.”

     “I wonder why,” she says drily, and we’re both silent for a beat before breaking out into giggles, which only worsens when the male we’d been discussing walks through the door. There’s a brief lull in conversation as the ladies on the upper levels pause to get a nice, long look at him, which only makes us laugh harder.

     “Oh, I don’t know if I like this,” Rhysand says lightly as he stops at the end of the table. “What could be so funny as to have you both in hysterics?”

     “You’re early,” Mor says once she has calmed a little, which is about the same time I manage to blurt between breaths: “We’re not hysterical.”

     “Then why are you winded?” He asks as he drops onto the cushion beside Mor. “Oh, fruit tarts. Did Roz make these?”

     “Of course she made them,” Mor says, closing the lid on the box once he’s snatched one out of it. “But I thought you were eating out tonight?”

     “I am.” Those lovely violet eyes flick to me. “Will you be joining me?”

     “Yes.” I drain the last of my tea before casting a guilty look at Mira and the steadily growing piles of books on the desk, ready to be reshelved. “If I can get this place closed down in a decent amount of time. You might be better off going on without me.”

     “Absolutely not. What needs to be done?”

     “Well, shelving to start. Poor Hanita hasn’t even been here a day, I wouldn’t blame her for not staying on at the rate she’s having to shelve books.”

     “That’s easily done,” he says with a nod. “What else?”

     “Once everyone’s gone, I’ll have to balance the till, put out the fire, sweep-”

     “I’ll work on reshelving,” Mor says as she pops the last bite of her tart in her mouth. “But you’re stuck with sweeping, Rhysie.”

     “Fine,” Rhys says, vanishing the rest of his tart and the box Mor had on the table, along with the teapot and empty mugs. His cousin squawks at her missing treats, but he waves her off with a belabored, “it’s at home, it’ll be waiting when you get there.”

     “It better be! And the other overgrown bats had better not get to them first, Rhysand, or you’ll owe me so many treats.”

     “Have you been putting up with this all afternoon?”

     I laugh at the indignation in his voice and give him a shrug as I climb to my feet after her. “Oh, she was far nicer to me. Mor, are you sure you know where all of those go?”

     “If I don’t, I’ll find out!” The blonde says cheerfully as she whisks a stack off of the corner of the desk. Hanita pauses on the bottom stair to watch Mor flounce past her with a slightly awed expression. Honestly, I can’t blame her, the High Lord’s cousin is a whirlwind in fae form. It truly feels as if it’s Morrigan’s world and we’re all merely living in it.

     “She means well,” Rhys says, his voice suddenly closer than I’d anticipated. I hadn’t heard him stand, much less begin following me towards the desk, and I press my hand to my chest to feel my heart racing furiously beneath it. “I’m sorry, did I startle you?”

     “You move so quietly.” I duck my head as my cheeks flood with heat, embarrassed at being caught off guard. He always seems to do that to me. I feel his hand settle between my shoulderblades, his touch light enough to be shrugged off if I were inclined to. I’m not. “You really don’t have to help, I can manage the sweeping-”

     “Oh no, I haven't swept anything since I was a soldier in the barracks. I’m sure it’s good for me.”

     “I’m sure,” I agree, suppressing a giggle as I step away from him. This playful back and forth feels like a dance I don’t know, but it’s one I’m eager to learn. Sidling up to Mira at the desk, I lean in conspiratorially to whisper, “Mira, would you mind showing the High Lord where the broom is?”

     “The…broom?” Mira glances back over her shoulder, then casts me a scandalized look. “Surely you don’t mean to have the High Lord sweep-”

     “Oh, she does. She said I’d have to sweep the shop if I intend to take her to dinner.” Now it’s my turn to look at the male currently leaning against the side of my desk, smirking at me with such easy arrogance and a spark in those twilight eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. Just when I open my mouth to protest that I had not, in fact, said that, he turns those eyes on Mira and I have to fight not to cackle as she immediately glances down at the receipt book, blushing fiercely. “You’ll show me where to find the broom, won’t you, Mira? I made a reservation I’d hate to be late for.”

     A reservation. My mouth falls open and I fight to say something intelligible, but all that comes out is a mildly offended grunt that makes Hanita look twice at me as she grabs another stack of books from the desk. I’m hardly dressed to go anywhere in this city one would need a reservation for. This time it’s Mira’s turn to laugh at me and she does, a full-bodied cackle at my expense.

     “Get out of here before I fire you both!” My perturbed tone only serves to make her laugh harder, but Hanita’s alarmed expression has me waving her off with an apologetic smile. “Not you, Hanita, you’re safe until you start teasing me, too. Finish that stack and you can go. Honestly, I can get the rest of them.”

     “I’ll get the rest of them,” Mira says reassuringly to the younger female, “after I show this one where the broom is. You go home, girl, you worked hard today. I’ll see you in the morning and show you how to open the shop.”

     “O-okay,” Hanita murmurs uncertainly, nodding as she steps away, her eyes searching the upper levels as she walks towards the stairs. The last few customers just filed out of the shop empty-handed, which I’m assuming was Mor’s doing, and I’m not sure if I should thank her for throwing people out or not.

     Once I’m alone at my desk, I quickly count the till and reconcile the balance with the receipt book to ensure the numbers line up. Mira always keeps phenomenal records, so the task is finished in no time and the funds are locked away in the safe by the time Mira and Hanita are pulling on their own cloaks and bidding me farewell, the rest of the books having been split between them. The lanterns dim the moment the fire goes out, and I turn to see the High Lord finishing up sweeping near the hearth.

     “You’re telling me Rhys actually swept?” Mor’s voice carries across the room as she hops down the final step, brushing her hands against her fine clothes. “I thought he’d use magic to get rid of the dust.”

     “How lazy do you think I am?” Rhys replies before I get the opportunity, clearly intent on defending his honor.

     “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”

     “I appreciate it, Rhys, thank you.” I tell him, hopefully heading off an argument before it can actually begin. I don’t believe we’ll make it in time for Rhys’s reservation if they start bickering now. I didn’t have a close family growing up, not in the way they are. I never experienced what it’s like to have someone to pick at for the joy of it. It must have been fun, growing up with a cousin so close in age. And a sister…well, perhaps I’ll ask about her another day. Not today. “It looks wonderful.”

     “Wonderful, she says,” Mor turns her teasing on me with a dazzling smile. “You’re so nice.”

     “Don’t you have someone else to torment?” Rhys asks, his back to us as he places the broom in the thin closet tucked away between two of the shelves lining the walls.

     “Of course, Cassian and Azriel are supposed to be home tonight.”

     “They’re home.” The High Lord’s voice is smooth and certain as he eyes his cousin before he summons a thick, plain black coat to ward away the winter chill. “Take Amren with you, I’m sure she needs company.”

     “Have you told her I’m coming?”

     “And give her a chance to hide away? No. Tell her I’ll want to speak with her later tonight, she might be more inclined to accompany you without a fuss.”

     “Do you really need to talk to her?”

     “I do.” The minute he considers the matter settled, he looks to me and I straighten a little, remembering I’m actually present in the room and am not simply observing them from a distance. “Are you ready?”

     “Let me get my cloak.” Thankfully, my gloves and earmuffs are in the pocket, so by the time they meet me at the door, I’m ready to go back out in the cold.

     “Will you be warm enough?” Rhys asks as Mor leaves us with little more than a brief wave. I usher him out the door and lock it behind us, slipping my keys into my pocket before I turn around to see him watching me. His elbow is angled slightly away from his body and I slip my hand into it without a thought. “Would you prefer to winnow?”

     “I like the walk, don’t you?”

     “You worked all day, I want you to be comfortable.”

     “So did you.”

     “A different sort of work, nothing quite so physical. You’ve been quite busy since the turn of the year.”

     “I have.” Are we going to talk about the eyes that always seem to follow us? The uptick in patrons to my shop hoping to catch sight of him? I wait for Rhys to press on but he doesn’t, and we slip into a comfortable silence that finds its way between us more often than not. I can’t bring myself to sit in it though, not tonight. Not after the glimpse of a vision I’d had earlier. “Did you have a good day?”

     “It was fine. I spent it in meetings with various lords and a steward who’d rather put a knife in my back than work with me, but we managed to get a few of the items on their very long list taken care of. I’d call it a success.”

     “Would you?” I ask warily. “How can you work with someone like that?”

     “How can I not?” He counters gently, squeezing the hand tucked into his elbow. “They are in my territory under my protection. I cannot pick which of my citizens I serve, though there are days I certainly would like to.”

     “You mean High Lords don’t get to do whatever they want?” His mouth quirks at my teasing, but the expression on his face falls to something more grim as we walk. It’s like watching a mask slip away.

     “I wish that were true. Perhaps it is for some, I don’t claim to know how the others rule their territories, but for mine? No, I do not get to do whatever I want.”

     “What would you do if you could?”

     “Now that is a dangerous question.” His tone is far darker and more contemplative than I’d bargained for. In that moment, it’s like I’ve stepped into a cold, bottomless pit: my stomach flutters anxiously and a chill racks my body. Then the feeling is gone as quickly as it came, swept away on an early evening breeze. “It doesn’t really matter what I would do if I didn’t have to consider the consequences. I do consider them, some days I feel all I do is consider the possible ramifications of the choices I have made or will make.”

     “That sounds exhausting.”

     “Oh, it is.” Rhys glances down at me and smiles then, though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and I tighten my grip on his arm. “So maybe you’ll understand why I don’t mind shelving the occasional book or sweeping your floors by hand. It’s nice to be able to give someone help that isn’t going to require much from me.”

     It’s nice to just be useful. It’s a sentiment I understand very well, unfortunately, so I nod to acknowledge the truth he’s revealed about himself. I mull over my own history and I think about giving him a truth of my own. Would he even care to know it? Would it even help?

     “My mother was a Seer, too,” I began hesitantly, toying with a loose thread on my sleeve. “It’s common in her family line for at least one daughter to be one. My mother had it worse than the few of her cousins or aunts that had inherited the gift: she spent most of her life trapped in visions, she was never able to work outside of our home, these scarves I wear stopped working for her long before they had me. I wasn’t able to work until after they both passed, I spent a lot of days trapped at home with her and I’d try to get her out, to…I don’t know, enrich her life however I could, but it’s impossible to help someone who doesn’t even know you’re there most days. So I kept busy, I cleaned, I read to her even when she couldn’t hear me…I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, except to say that I suppose I understand, to an extent, the desire to be helpful in some small way that makes a difference. And maybe I can understand what it’s like to not feel as though your life is truly your own, that your actions have a direct effect on others. It can be very lonely, trying to consider everything at once on a small scale. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.”

     “I love my territory and my people, so it isn’t a burden but…yes, sometimes I believe it would be significantly easier if I cared less.”

     “The fact that you care at all is what makes you a good leader, Rhys. I hope you know that.”

     “And yet, it still isn’t enough,” he says lightly. “Here we are. Have you been here before?”

     The here in question is a little restaurant on the harbor built around the base of what had been a crumbling lighthouse. Velaris’s first lighthouse, if the stories are to be believed. The property had been purchased during our period of total isolation, and what remained of the lighthouse was restored before the rest of the structure was built out of the pine the lumberyard had left from the Illyrian mountains. In the spring and summer, it’s covered with jasmine and the hummingbirds flock to it. I can picture their little, jeweled bodies eagerly darting between the flowering vines for a delicious meal, much to the delight of the customers eating on the roof.

     But that’s spring.

     Now, in the cold embrace of winter, the vines are dormant and large, jewel-toned lamps are placed between tables, enchanted to heat the space as well as give off adequate light. It doesn’t look like there’s anyone up there tonight, the first I’ve seen since the restaurant opened. Rhys ushers me to the ochre-colored door in time for it to swing open. A willowy dryad greets us with a smile, and the thin, braided vines that flow over her shoulder begin to sprout the most beautiful, delicate magnolia blossoms I’ve ever seen. The scent of them permeates the air around us, and I begin to feel a little lightheaded, almost intoxicated, after a couple of breaths.

     “High Lord,” she says with a curtsy, her voice like a warm breeze through the heart of the forest. “Lady. Thank you for dining with us this evening. My name is Bahaar, can I take your outerwear? Thank you, it will be hanging just back here, let me know if you’d like me to bring it to you. Please allow me to show you to your table.”

     I’d interrupt to tell her I’m not a lady, at least not the sort she must think I am, but Rhys seems to take it in stride and settles his hand on my lower back, urging me to follow her. I don’t know if I can reliably draw breath anymore, let alone make my feet work. I know I’m blushing, but I’m powerless to stop it.

     “You have a lovely restaurant,” he says idly as we wind through an empty dining room set with tablecloths in lovely, rich fabrics and dinnerware that seems to be made of pure gold. “Isn’t it normally busier?”

     “My husband and I shifted the rest of our reservations for half an hour after your arrival, High Lord, so I could seat the both of you without having to worry about a crowded restaurant. I hope you don’t mind.”

     “I don’t, but I don’t mind the crowd either.” It’s not much of a lecture, but the intent behind the statement is clear: do not make allowances for me. I’m still one of you…but I don’t know that he’s ever truly been one of us, has he? How can he, when his position will always set him apart? Bahaar nods and the flower petals flutter like they’re dancing in a breeze. I can’t help but wonder if she has problems with bees in warmer weather, but maybe a dryad doesn’t see bees as a problem.

     We weave through the tables until we reach the curved brick of the original lighthouse and she leads us up the creaky wooden stairs lit with golden faelights. Up and up we spiral until we emerge into the cool night breeze, made infinitely more tolerable by the heated lamps, and we follow her to the low table in the corner near the water, surrounded by sumptuous silk cushions. A thin, tasseled blanket is thrown over the railing beside us, the same color as the wine-dark sea flowing into the harbor. A ceramic bowl of water sits in the middle of the table, where floating candles and fragile magnolia petals drift lazily in a slowly churning whirlpool. A tower of dark fruits and cheeses sits at the edge of the table, and the High Lord ensures I’m settled before he takes a seat across from me.

     “We have bottles of starfruit wine or a spiced pomegranate mead,” Bahaar says and I shrug when Rhys looks at me, ambivalent about the choice. The dryad takes pity on us almost immediately and interjects with, “the wine will pair well with the cheese and fruit, I’ll bring it first. The mead will best compliment tonight's stew, if that sounds acceptable?”

     “It sounds wonderful, thank you.” I smile up at her and the female returns it with one of her own before excusing herself with a short bow. When I turn back to Rhys, he’s looking out at the twilight sky stretching over the harbor. His golden skin is warm in the firelight, and I clench my fists in my lap to deter myself from reaching across the table to touch him. Bahaar returns shortly with two glasses of pale, shimmering starfruit wine, and I take a sip of it to give myself something to do. It’s light and sweet, and I think if I were to swallow a falling star, this would be what it tasted like. After another long few moments of studying the High Lord, silhouetted against the starlit sky, I ask softly, “where did you go?”

     Rhys hums a little, shaking his head before he looks back at me and manages a small smile. “Nowhere. I’m sorry.”

     “Why do you look so sad, Rhys?”

     “I am sad,” he admits, taking a sip of his wine. “I’m trying not to be.”

     “It’s okay if you are, sometimes you need to be sad for a while. Do you want to talk about it?”

     “No.” He shakes his head and inky-black hair falls over his forehead, shielding his eyes from view as he focuses on plating fruit and cheese for us both. “There isn’t much to discuss, if I’m honest, the situation isn’t something I have any control over. I’m trying to learn how to live with it.”

     “And you don’t think talking about it will help?”

     “Not tonight. Maybe after tomorrow it will be easier, I don’t know, but I didn’t come here with you tonight to discuss that.”

     “What would you like to discuss?”

     “You.” When he looks up again, his hair falls away from his eyes and it’s like he’s truly seeing me for the first time since we sat down. The soft, warm smile that lights his face makes my heart flutter. “I want to hear more about you, about your life. Both of your parents are gone now, but it seems you were fairly close to them, weren’t you?”

     “I was. I miss them very much.” Too much, if I’m honest. I miss reading with my mother and midnight talks over tea with my father once he’d finished work for the day. “I think my father is the reason I have a hard time taking days off. He never really had many, he worked most days from dawn to well past dusk to provide a comfortable life for my mother and I, and now…without them, I’m not really sure what to do with myself. Renovating the shop took a lot of time and community effort, once that was finished I didn’t know what to do, so I just…worked. Mira was a regular customer until one day she asked if I needed any help. I did, but I couldn’t pay her at the time, and she’s refused money whenever I’ve offered it. I think she was bored in retirement.”

     “And what about you?”

     “What about me?”

     “You have a successful business, have you thought of what you might like to do next? Take up a hobby? Do some traveling?”

     “Traveling?” Rhys looks puzzled when I laugh at him, so I take another sip of my wine and take a bite out of the blood orange slice on my plate before I answer. “High Lord, I do rather well for myself and I don’t have any outstanding debts. I can’t winnow, I don’t have the sort of money it would take to travel. But I’ve thought about where I’d go. To the continent, perhaps, to Montesere or Rask, maybe Ravennia if there’s a way to do it safely. I’d like to see the world, but I’ve never had the opportunity to step beyond my front door, not even to neighboring territories. I was born in Velaris, I’ll probably die here without seeing much of it.”

     “Maybe not,” he says slowly, taking a bite of soft, flaky white cheese. “Where would you go first?”

     “In a perfect world, where there’s never been any conflict?”

     “Sure.”

     “I miss spring,” I say with a sigh. Rhys flinches at the word and my brow furrows as I study him. “I miss the world being green and full of flowers and life, so I expect I’d like to visit one of the warmer courts. Truly, Winter is last on my list to see, but…”

     “But you miss flowers,” he says in a hollow tone. “Somewhere green. Where…where else?”

     “I want to see something I’ve never seen before. Something centuries old that’s stood the test of time. Old temple ruins or a holy well or…I don’t know. Something incredible.”

     “Something incredible.” This time his voice isn’t so haunted, there’s life in his eyes when he nods at me over his wine. “I believe I know just the thing. Give me a few days to do a little research of my own, but by the end of the week, I should have something to show you that isn’t very far at all.”

     “What are you planning?” I laugh, popping a few pomegranate seeds into my mouth.

     “You’ll see.” My heart soars when he winks at me, then I hear the door open and I look back to see Bahaar leading a small crowd to a table far from ours. I’m a little chilled in spite of the heaters, so I pull the blanket from the rail and lay it across my lap. “Are you warm enough, would you like my jacket?”

     “Oh, I’m fine. It’s only a bit of a chill, I’m sure once the stew arrives I’ll be plenty warm. Now, what about you, Rhys? What do you want?”

     “What do I…want?” He blinks slowly at me, as though I’ve said something strange he hadn’t once thought about. “I want to see my territory thriving, to ensure we’re safe…that we’re all safe. And then, I suppose, I want to live in peace. I’ve seen enough war and bloodshed to hope I can avoid conflict for the rest of my days.”

     “And nothing else?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “You don’t wish to travel yourself? What about a family, a wife?” He snorts derisively and I tilt my head. “Someone to keep you company, does that not appeal to you?”

     “I have company, don’t I? No, I know it’s not the same, but I’ve had centuries to think about it and the last fifty years to realize that any wife I may take would have a target painted on her back, and that goes for any children I sire. And who would choose that? I could never ask it of anyone, it’s not worth it.”

     “I don’t agree,” I murmur, shaking my head. “I know the other courts might think us monstrous, but are we really so reviled-”

     “Not us,” he says too softly. “Me. I have done horrendous things over the last fifty years and made myself quite the monster. I don’t believe there is anyone beyond this court who will ever see me as more than a nightmare, with good reason.”

     “Did you have any other choice?”

     “I truly wish I had.” When his shadowed eyes meet mine, I can’t take the pain bubbling beneath the surface and reach across the table to rest my hand on his. He doesn’t pull away.

     “Then you did what you had to do. I don’t care what the world thinks of you, Rhysand, I know you’re not a monster. And when you find someone who chooses you, I hope you let her stay and love you. You deserve to be loved.”

    He opens his mouth to say more, but once glance over my shoulder has him drawing himself up, and I swiftly remove my hand from his. Bahaar sets two bowls of thick, spiced stew filled with chunks of beef and pomegranate seeds before us, along with smaller bowls filled with sticky rice and two glasses of mead. I’ll take up the mantle of this conversation another day, perhaps, when the subject isn’t such an open wound. For tonight, dinner will be enough. I’ll speak of softer things and think of spring, when things will be warm and alive again.

Hi! For bingo: nightmare with Helion, fluff

Ladies and gentlemen, here I state: I am a monster

Yes, you asked me fluff, I did it, but with A MAJOR ANGST

IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭😭 if you want me to do it again without the triggers ask please, I just got carried away with this

For some ideia: this one has trigger warning, oh yeah, we are THAT bad

It's a bit shorter than the other ones too, but meh that's all I can get sorry

I think I'm still deep into the pregnancy trope, apologies

Trigger warning: miscarriage, nightmare, self hate thoughts, Helion being supportive king (it's not a trigger tho)

Baby Mine

You remember the scene perfectly. You heard the motion in the room, smelled the blood, and saw the red covering a good part of the sheets. You heard Helion's scream for help, saw the healers entering the room, and then everything felt empty, you even distinguished Lucien's face in the middle of the fuss. Helion was silently crying at the side of the bed, holding your hand and praying. For you, you realized.

But you were numb.

You didn't feel pain, you actually felt cold. You remember asking for someone to close the windows. But they were closed, weren't they? Day Court was supposed to be hot at that time of the year.

You felt wetness, but where was it coming from? Was it raining outside? No, it wasn't the rainy season. What was happening? Why did you feel so numb, so sad, so empty?

It took you more than a week to get rid of the fever, the infection almost killed that time. It hasn't killed you, but it definitely killed a part of you. Every part of that day and of all the ones that followed was a mess inside of your mind. When you first woke up and finally realized what happened you refused to sleep for five days in a row. You knew the nightmares were going to follow you everywhere you went. When Helion cried so much one day and begged you to sleep you knew what was coming for you that night.

Blood, screams, wetness, cold, cries, prayers, emptiness.

The same process happened over and over again for the next year, each time less and less. Somehow you felt like you needed those nightmares, it was a reminder that you indeed had a pregnancy, you had a child. It didn't matter if the baby came out too soon. It was yours, it was your baby.

Sometimes you just want to forget. Want to forgive yourself for not being enough to hold the baby inside your belly. Want to forget the pain it felt afterward. Want to forget Helion's sorrows and Lucien's pained face when he realized what had happened.

Sometimes you think you deserved it.

Sometimes you think no one deserves this pain.

It stopped after some time, months of talking with your mate until you could finally find peace of mind and keep going with your life. You both made a little grave for the unborn baby. It didn't have a name yet, or a face, or anything at all, being out too early in the pregnancy. And yet, you loved it with everything part of your being. It had been ripped out of you.

But now it was back, you could feel Helion shaking you softly to wake you up. But you didn't want to, you wanted to see it, see your baby, apologize once again.

Blood, screams, wetness, cold, cries, prayers, emptiness.

You hold onto those memories with your dear life, you wanted to see its face. But did it have a face? The healers said it didn’t, being so young that nothing was formed yet. But sometimes you like to imagine, its skin, eyes, and voice. Anything.

Blood, screams, wetness, cold, cries, prayers, emptiness.

Suddenly it stopped and everything was gone. You felt the sweat on your skin, felt the chill air of the opened windows, saw the different walls, felt the different beds, and realized how full you were. You feel full.

You got up abruptly, feeling the gentle shaking of Helion's hand on your shoulder and the worry that flew through the bond. As your senses gradually returned, you realized the nightmare had dissolved into the cool reality of your bedroom. Beads of sweat adorned your skin, a stark contrast to the chill air that crept in through the windows.

- Babe, are you okay? - Helion's voice sounded on your side, his face calm and serene, but his eyes holding the worry and pain you know he also feels.

- I'm fine. I'm fine now - You don't know if it's true or if you are just trying to calm yourself down. But it works. It might also be Helion's hand traveling up and down on your back, warm and soft as always, pushing away the cold, filling you with heat.

- The same nightmare? - He grabbed your waist and pulled you to him, holding you for dear life.

- Yes. It's back. But I'm fine - You reassured him again, your voice quivering slightly - I'll be fine now - You hoped the words would turn into truth to the both of you, even if you weren't entirely convinced yourself.

- Do you want to talk about it? - He inquired softly, his voice laced with tenderness and concern. He pulled you closer, his arms encircling your waist, creating a cocoon of safety and warmth that only he could provide to you.

- Yes, please - You nodded, a shiver coursing through your body when the memories threatened to pass by - I'm scared - You admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

- It was just a nightmare, you are healthy and safe - Helion pressed his lips against your forehead, his touch as gentle as a feather - I'm here, my love. I'll always be here. We'll be together as I promised you, I won't leave your side ever again, we'll face whatever comes our way.

Tears welled up in your eyes, emotions threatening to spill over. The weight of your shared grief and your unspoken fears were heavy, but in Helion's embrace, you found solace. His unwavering support had become a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. The warmth of Helion's touch, his unwavering presence, helped anchor you in the present moment.

Amidst the fragile vulnerability that lingered in the room, you found the strength to share your deepest apprehension. The truth lingers in your tongue along with the fear of finally pronouncing the words that you kept to yourself for such a long time.

- Helion, I... I'm pregnant again - You confessed, your voice trembling with uncertainty, the tears ready to roll down your face at any moment - But I'm so scared. I'm afraid that I can't hold the baby like last time. I don't want to lose another one.

His eyes widened with a mixture of surprise, joy, and concern. As much as he didn't want to show it, you could still see the spark that ascended in his eyes when he heard the news. Helion's grip tightened around you, his voice filled with raw emotion

- My love, whatever decision you make, I will stand by you. We can face this together, but please know that I'll let you decide. If you think you can't go through this then you don't need to, but you are strong, stronger than you give yourself credit for. You are capable of holding life within you, of raising it with your love and tenderness - He caressed your face while saying every word, not looking away from your eyes while saying it - The last time you caught a disease, it wasn't your fault and it would never be. You did everything right, it just wasn't meant to be. You decide now.

His words pierced through your fears, cutting through the darkness that clouded your mind. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you clung to him, overwhelmed by a surge of love and gratitude. Helion's own tears mingled with yours, cascading down his face as he approached you.

- I want it so bad. I want to be a mom. I want to give you a child for you to hold. I want to give Lucien a sibling - You proceed every word with hope and love, snuggling closer to your mate as you imagined your future with him and a new child - I'm ready to try again if you stay with me.

- I will. You will probably have to ask Lucien to take me away from you when I stick to you from now on for every second of the day - You laugh as he proves himself right by squeezing you in a tight hug, pecking your face and neck numerous times - I can't wait to be a daddy with you, to create a life together that will be a testament to our love.

Through tear-streaked smiles, you both decided to keep this precious secret to yourselves until you were certain the baby would make it to the end. The road ahead was uncertain, but with Helion by your side, your heart was filled with renewed hope and the conviction that you were not alone.

In the tender embrace of your mate, you allowed yourself to bask in the sweetness, love, and softness that enveloped your being. Feeling more confident than ever for the path you were about to follow. The journey of healing and new beginnings had just begun, but with each passing moment, you grew stronger, especially together. And in the depths of your love, you found the courage to believe in the miracles that awaited you.

Heyy for the acotar bingo can you do second option??? Or maybe co workers but like modern! Au

I saw this and was like: what if I used BOTH??!!!!

I also noticed you didn't specified any character so WELCOME BACK RHYSAND HIGH LORD OF THE NIGHT COURT MUAHAHAHAHAHA

See? I did this without putting Feyre as a villain we can all do that

Also I made this angst I don't care I like pain

HEY, I kind of did a universe like CC so, faes and magic but elevators and cellphones? Is that right?

Warning: Almost happy ending more to the no than to the yes, no fluff, angst

Waiting On A Miracle

During the day in Velaris, it was not uncommon for you to find Rhysand, CEO of the renowned Nightstar Corporation, and your boss, pacing around his room in a nervous walk. He often found himself facing a problem that seemed almost insufferable. Despite his wealth, success, and influence, Rhysand's heart yearned for one thing that had eluded him for far too long – true love. He believed that having a powerful and talented woman by his side could raise his spirits and complete his life, filling the void he usually felt in his heart.

He carefully crafted the life he wanted to have, made plans for his future, and ignored the past. It wouldn't be different for the moment he would have to choose a wife. You knew that, always have. And yet, in the darkest moments of the night, you imagined yourself as his choice. You had the knowledge it would never be you. What could you even offer? Coming from a powerful family you were the only one without a drop of magic in your blood. You could winnow and that's all, it ended right there. Everything you lacked in magic you worked hard to compensate for in brains. You were at the top of your class, numerous prizes filled your house and you worked for the best. But in the end, you would never be enough for anyone but yourself.

Rhysand turned to you in one of his days of pacing around and thinking about his future. It was actually a routine to wait for him to finally sit down, you would offer any candy in your drawer and he would smile. Sometimes he would praise you and even send a kiss, memories of your bubbly past with him would fill your heart and both of you would go back to work. Now you worked closely with him in the upper echelons of Nightstar, but in the past, you had shared moments of intimacy, a colorful and passionate friendship during college and the years before his rise. This relationship, even if it had left an undeniable mark on both of you, had turned into a mere spark that often burned a little brighter with every interaction.

But now, Rhysand found himself feeling distracted and consumed by thoughts of his future marriage. It was difficult for him to concentrate on anything else, and he realized that he had to choose soon or else he would become a madman. Taking a deep breath, he picked up his phone and called you while you were in your office, requesting you to come to his room for an important discussion.

As you entered his office, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of nervousness and hope. You and he had been through so much together, and lately, things seemed different between you. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally going to confess his true feelings for you. You were waiting for a miracle.

-What did you want to talk about, Rhysand? - You asked, trying to keep your emotions in check - Is it so important for you to make me get up and travel to the other side of the corridor? - Rhysand looked at her with a mix of hesitation and determination.

-I wanted to talk to you about something important. I've been doing a lot of thinking as you saw, and I've come to a decision.

-Yes, what is it? - Your heart skipped a beat, and you leaned in slightly, your hope rising. It was stupid but you still thought. Maybe…

-I've decided to try a relationship with someone - He said, choosing his words carefully.

-Oh, really? That's great news, maybe the cabinet will finally stop bothering you with that - You were trying to sound nonchalant while your heart raced with anticipation.

-Yes, her name is Feyre - Rhysand said, watching your reaction carefully.

Of course, his choice was none other than Feyre, a remarkable and gifted individual, possessing an extraordinary talent that set her apart from others. Being such a powerful female and still making time to search for what she truly loves was definitely a courageous thing to do. You couldn't deny the appeal. The hope in your heart dimmed instantly, replaced by a mixture of disappointment and sadness.

-Feyre? That's... that's wonderful - You said, trying to mask her feelings. Rhysand noticed the change in your demeanor, and a pang of guilt washed over him. He knew he was hurting you, and he wished he could find the right words to make things better.

-I thought you'd be happy for me - He said gently, trying to explain himself - I've been trying to get over this step of my life for a long time - You managed a weak smile, though your heart felt heavy.

-Of course, I am. Feyre is wonderful, and you deserve to be happy - Rhysand sighed, feeling the weight of his decision.

-The thing is, I don't really know her. We talked once at a party and it was quite good. But I don't know her - Your brows furrowed at his declaration - I know what you're thinking, but I'm sure I'll get to marry her in the end. It's not that hard to fall in love with me - He tried to joke, but you weren't in the mood for it, both his decision and the situation being too much for you. He sighed and dropped his posture on the chair - Look, I care about you, and I value our friendship and our work together. I hope you understand that this doesn't change anything between us.

-Of course, I understand. What we had during college was just… distraction. I'm glad you found someone that can fit in your necessities - But inside, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy and sadness. You had hoped that maybe, just maybe, you were the one he had chosen. Maybe all those times he was thinking about you. Nothing less than a miracle could take you out of the place your lack of magic put you on.

As you left his office, Rhysand felt a mix of relief and regret. He had been honest with you, but he couldn't shake the guilt he felt for the pain he caused. He knew he had to give his relationship with Feyre a chance, but a part of him couldn't help but wonder what might have been with you.

In the days that followed, he tried to be there for you as a friend, hoping to mend any rift that had formed between your relationship. He wanted to preserve the connection you had, even if it couldn't be what none of you had hoped for. And as he embarked on his new pursuit with Feyre, Rhysand couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right choice. There was a part of him that still felt drawn to you, a lingering feeling that maybe, in another time and place, things could have been different.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the city skyline with hues of orange and pink as Rhysand sat in his office, deep in thought. He had been racking his brain all day, trying to plan the perfect first date for Feyre, something that would sweep her off her feet and show her how much he cared.

-Okay, so first, we'll start with a candlelit dinner at that small Italian restaurant in the venue next to my house - Rhysand mused aloud, his mind drifting to the cozy corner table he had shared with you hundreds of times when you both worked late night and he invited you to sleep at his house, laughing and sharing stories over plates of delicious pasta and wine - Then, we'll take a stroll through the park, hand in hand, talking and laughing - He tried to continue, the image of your smile and the warmth of your hand in his flashing before his eyes.

Rhysand sighed, realizing that everything he was planning for Feyre was merely a reflection of the moments he had lived with you. It struck him like a bolt of lightning – he knew you so well, knew what made you happy and what made your heart sing, but when it came to Feyre, he was completely lost. A mixture of guilt and confusion washed over him. He had been so focused on pursuing Feyre, believing she was the key to completing his life, that he hadn't even noticed his own heart steering him in another direction. The truth hit him like a tidal wave – he was in love with you.

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with the realization. How could he have missed it? He needed Feyre in his life because of his job and status, but it was you who had captured his heart in a way he had never thought possible. You had been there for him, understood him in ways no one else did, and your moments together were the most cherished memories he had.

He only had to choose. Feyre and his job. Or you and his heart.

It never took him long to decide. With the decision already made in his head he dialed your number in his phone and asked you to meet him at the rooftop garden – the very place where you had shared so many of your intimate conversations and moments. As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you arrived, looking curious and slightly apprehensive.

-What's going on, Rhysand? - You asked, your gaze searching his face for answers.

-I was trying to plan a date for Feyre, but as I was describing it, I realized that everything I was saying… it's what we used to do, what we've done together - He paused after saying it, but you sensed it wasn't enough, his hesitation preparing you for the worst.

-What do you really want to talk about? - You asked, taking a seat across from him. Rhysand took a deep breath, his heart feeling heavy with the weight of what he was about to say.

-I need to talk to you about your position in the company - He began, trying to find the right words.

-What about it? Is there an issue? - You frowned, sensing the unease in his voice.

-I've decided to downgrade your position - Rhysand looked down for a moment before meeting your gaze again - You are going to work with Azriel now - The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you could barely believe what you were hearing.

-What? Why? Have I done something wrong? - Your heart starts to beat faster. Everything you ever worked for, the life you sacrificed yourself numerous times to have, everything was crumbling down right in front of you.

-It's not about that - Rhysand replied, trying to keep his emotions in check - I've realized that I'm getting too distracted by you, and I need to focus on my pursuit of Feyre. I can't afford any more complications - Your eyes welled up with tears, and your initial shock turned to anger quicker than you could process what he said.

-Are you serious right now? You're downgrading me because you don't know how to flirt properly with Feyre without thinking about me? I can't believe you, Rhysand! This is ridiculous! - You shout out, your anger rising with each passing second as your mind realized what he just said - Are you fucking out of your mind? You are the one having problems and I am the one who had to suffer and sacrifice a part of my life?

-I know it sounds harsh, and I'm sorry - Rhysand said, his voice softening - But I can't deny my feelings for you any longer. You've become a distraction, and I need to put some distance between us - You stood up abruptly, your emotions boiling over.

-You're unbelievable! First, you loved me and slept with me, and now you're acting like it meant nothing? I thought we were friends at least! - Rhysand looked pained, guilt etched across his features.

-It's not that it meant nothing. It meant everything, and that's why I need to do this. I can't bear the thought of losing you, but I can't continue like this either - Your anger turned into hurt, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

-So, I'm just some inconvenience standing in the way of what you want? I thought you cared about me!

-I do care about you - Rhysand said, his own voice catching with emotion - That's why I made sure to keep the same salary, the same schedule and readjusted you to one of my best men. You will be treated well and-

-It's about that, you idiot! Do you even know me? It's not about the job itself, it's the fact that you are downgrading me for a problem that's not even mine to solve! - Your eyes poured out tears like no tomorrow would come. You looked into the skies and asked yourself if it was actually real - You know me. You know my family, my history. You know the world we live in. I don't have magic, Rhysand. And without that I have nothing. You know the number of colleges that denied my application because of my lack of powers. The only thing I ever had was my brain and my position and now you are taking it from me too.

-But it's not about your powers-

-Shut up - You interrupted him again, feeling a new wave of emotion flooding you - We both know that it is. If I had any kind of power, you would've chosen me to be your wife. Wouldn't you? - His silence told everything you needed to know, when he dropped his eyes to the ground you knew it was over - I can't believe I fell for you. I thought you were different, but you're just like every other male who only cares about his own ambitions.

-No, it's not like that - Rhysand protested, reaching out to touch your arm. But you pulled away before he could get any closer, his heart shattered a bit more.

-Don't touch me. And don't come looking for me. I need some time to take all of my things from the office and change to Azriel's - You said with a sarcastic tone, still in disbelief at what happened to you.

As you walked out of the rooftop, Rhysand sank into one of the seats, his heart heavy with regret and guilt. He knew he had hurt you deeply, and the weight of his decision was crushing him. He had let his pursuit of power and his job blind him to what truly mattered – the connection he had and the love that had grown between the both of you. He let his mind decide what was best for him and now he lost everything that mattered.

He realized that he had been selfish, trying to keep you close as a confidant and friend while pursuing someone else. It wasn't fair to you, and it wasn't fair to him either. He had to confront his feelings and figure out what he truly wanted.

As the minutes turned into hours, Rhysand couldn't concentrate on anything else, especially when he looked outside the door and the lights in your office were turned off, emptiness filling the room. The only thing you left at your table was the gifts he gave to you during all those years working together.

The night kept tense as Rhysand now stood before Feyre, his mind blank as the thought of your tears kept rushing back and forth. He had finally worked up the encounter to talk with Feyre, hoping that she would see the potential in their union. But as he looked into her eyes, he felt nothing and knew that the outcome would not be what he so fiercely desired.

-You heard my proposal. We could make a formidable pair, and I believe we could accomplish great things together - But his voice was an empty whole, his expression a paint of his sorrow.

-Is that all this is about? Power and necessity? - Feyre raised an eyebrow, and he could tell she knew something was wrong.

-It's not just about that - But the phrase came out in a whisper of uncertainty, he sighed and put his head on his head, not even looking at the female in front of him anymore - Or at least I thought or hoped it wouldn't be - Feyre's gaze softened, and she smiled a bit. Always the sweet and comprehensive Feyre.

-Rhysand, I appreciate your honesty and your proposal, I am truly honored. But power and necessity are not enough for a marriage. We need more than that. We need love, trust, and a deep emotional connection - He said with a smile, holding his hand through the table and offering reassurance.

-I know - Rhysand said, his heart sinking - And I thought I could find that with you. In the future - Feyre shook her head gently, even laughing a little.

-Rhysand, I'm attracted to females. I've always been honest about my feelings and who I am. I can't give you the love you deserve, not in that way - His head went up and his eyes widened in surprise.

-I didn't know. I swear to you. I'm deeply sorry if I knew I would never propose such nonsense - He captured her hands in both of his and took it to his head, pleading forgiveness - I shouldn't have proposed this stupid thing to anyone, actually. I'm so sorry.

-It's okay. I never talked about it in public, you wouldn't know. I'm still getting comfortable with it - Her eyes sparkled with something he couldn't tell, but he knew she had forgiven him - You're an incredible man, Rhysand, and you deserve someone who can love you the way you need to be loved.We both deserve to find happiness in our own ways - He could only raise her hand to his lips and press a kiss in it. Thankful. He felt thankful - You're a good male, Rhysand. Don't ever doubt that. But you need to stop being so stubborn and let yourself live for your emotions, not just your company.

-I'll try - He nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and pain in his heart. As he walked away from Feyre that night, Rhysand felt a sense of both loss and relief.

As he found himself standing outside your door, he knew that the one who truly held his heart was waiting for him inside. It was time for him to stop denying his emotions in favor of his job and take a chance on love, on the person who had been there for him all along.

With a newfound determination, Rhysand knocked on the door, ready to embrace the future with open arms. Whatever the outcome, he knew that he couldn't keep hiding behind his company and ambitions, it was time for him to live for his emotions and the person who had captured his heart.

As the door opened, your eyes widened in surprise and confusion at the sight of Rhysand standing there, looking both heartbroken and determined. Before you could say anything, he began to speak, his voice wavering with emotion.

-I need to tell you the truth - Rhysand said, his voice barely above a whisper - I love you. I've loved you for so long, and I can't bear the thought of losing you. I've been such a fool, pursuing power and hiding behind my ambitions, when all this time, you were the one I wanted.

-You think a big declaration can make everything go back into place? - You cut him off before he could continue, your voice trembling with anger and sadness -Do you realize how much you hurt me? Did you even listen to what I said? How can I trust you, Rhysand?

-I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I was blind to my own feelings, and I pushed you away when all I wanted was to be with you - Rhysand's shoulders slumped, and tears welled up in his eyes.

-You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. You made your choice, Rhysand, and it wasn't me - The desperation in his eyes became evident as you moved to close the door. He ran and stopped you as fast as he could.

-I thought it was what I wanted, but I was wrong - Rhysand said, tears streaming down his cheeks - I can't lose you. I can't live without you.

-You can't just walk back into my life and expect everything to be fine. I don't know if I can trust you again - Your heart ached at the sight of his vulnerability, but you couldn't forget the pain he had caused. The things you lost because of him.

-I love you so much, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you - He declared, his voice raw with emotion - Please, give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me.

You felt torn apart, your heart wanting to believe him but also fearful of being hurt again. You took a step closer, bringing him inside your house before closing the door again. The same way Rhysand had made his decisions days before, you had made yours. In a moment of emotion, your lips met his in a kiss, a mixture of love, pain, and longing shared between you. It was a moment of desperation and yearning, the culmination of your intense feelings for each other. But as the kiss ended, you stepped back.

-I need time - You whispered, voice shaking with desperation - I need time to process everything, to figure out if we can ever find a way back to each other.

-I'll wait - He said, his voice filled with determination - However long it takes, I'll wait for you.

You nodded once before kissing him again, the movement memorized in your own being, the pattern very well known by both of you as you took off his coat and his shirt as you moved blindly towards your room. He knew where everything was, he knew every part of your body and every part of your heart. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough if he didn't know how to treat your heart. He knew you, you knew him, but neither of you knew how to deal with each other.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, the heaviness of the previous night's emotions lingered in the air. Rhysand found himself lost in your room. Your side of the bed was empty when he tried to find you. He lifted his head and started to walk around, searching for you all over your house, a place he knew like the back of his hand. He found you in the living room, hair still messy from the night before, lips still swollen and only a robe covering your body. He could get used to this vision.

-Good Morning. I thought that maybe we could - But you held up your hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

-I've had time to think, and I can't be in a relationship with you - You said, her voice resolute but tinged with sadness. Rhysand felt a mix of shock and disappointment wash over him, but he understood your decision. He cut you deeply, and he couldn't expect you to jump back into a relationship with him after everything that had happened.

-I... I understand - His voice barely above a whisper, looking at you with the hope that you would look back at him - I was a horrible person to you, and I'm sorry for everything I put you through.

-I appreciate your apology, Rhysand. But I need to move on from this and focus on my own happiness - Rhysand couldn't help but feel a sense of loss as he watched you stand firm in your decision. He had hoped for a different outcome, but he knew he had to respect your wishes after all.

-Well, at least go back to your position as my assistant - He suggested, trying to find some semblance of their previous relationship. But you only shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips.

-I'm sorry, Rhys, but I think I've found my place with Azriel. I'm very comfortable working with him, and I believe it's the right choice for me - Rhysand felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that he had truly lost you in every possible way. He had been blind to what he had in front of him, and now he was facing the consequences.

As he made his way to his car, the weight of his actions and the loss of your presence overwhelmed him. He felt defeated, lost, and uncertain of what the future held for him. But just as he was about to get into his car, he heard your voice calling out his name. He turned around to see you standing in front of the door, he looked at you hesitant but hopeful.

You took a deep breath, and for a moment, he saw a glimmer of hope in your eyes, as you considered what you were about to say.

-You can still send me messages, you know? Maybe there's still a chance for us, or maybe not. But if you ever want to talk, I'll be here. I'll think about answering them.

Rhysand felt a mixture of relief and uncertainty at your words. Maybe there was still a sliver of hope for you, a chance to rebuild what had been broken. But he also knew that he had a long way to go to earn your trust and love back. And maybe he would have a bit of competition with Azriel as your boss.

-Thank you - He said, his voice filled with gratitude - I'll take the chance.

And with that, you stood there for a moment, watching as he processed his emotions. Neither of you knew what the future held, but both of you were willing to find out. And with that, he left, giving you the space you needed. It's not a happy ending, but it was a step towards something real – a chance for both of you to confront your past, and your emotions, and to decide if love could endure the pain and uncertainty that lay ahead.

Quick question peoples, when we say pregnancy we mean baby in the belly or newborn baby? (Cause I think about the second one most of the time and I'm quite inclined to write the second too)