Chapter Text
Lucien could hardly believe that his beautiful mate was actually lying in his arms. He tucked one of her golden-brown curls between his fingers and tugged gently. He didn't understand the status of their relationship at that moment, and he wouldn't bother asking anytime soon. Not when Elain had just endured a traumatic kidnapping, and there was still so much unresolved in their lives. For now, he would simply enjoy the closeness she was granting him.
That was more than enough—to be able to smell her scent of honey and jasmine first thing in the morning and admire her serene face. He ran his thumb over her soft cheek; she was perfect in every way. And so incredibly brave. The male pulled her closer, trembling at the thought of revisiting everything she had endured. They still hadn't talked about her days in captivity or how it was affecting her.
Elain opened her eyes and looked around. She seemed a little disoriented, then her eyes fixed on his.
"Stop staring at me," she asked, stretching. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep.
"Sorry," he said softly. "Go back to sleep."
She moved closer to him, one of her legs sliding between his, one of her arms draped around his waist.
"I'm still getting used to waking up with sunlight," she admitted. "I used to think the days would never end in that prison."
Lucien nodded.
"What was it like?" he asked carefully.
"It was as if the days were endless. I had nothing to do but endure my own company. Eventually, they'd bring me food, and Damon… he was the only one who really talked." She turned her brown eyes toward him, waiting for his reaction. "He was… cruel, to say the least. He'd come to tell me how I was just a foolish doe or explain in detail the effects the faebane was having on me. He also told me how my kidnapping would put him in a better position of power."
Lucien recognized Damon as the man who had kidnapped her.
"And what happened to him?" It surprised him that he wasn't snarling.
"Eris killed him… burned him alive."
And once again, it was another male exacting revenge on his behalf. First Azriel, then Eris, then Nesta. They were all ready to make sacrifices for his mate.
Elain looked at him.
"Stop that, Lucien. I've already told you, you don't need to belittle yourself. And I'm not some damsel in distress for you to protect and prove yourself to." The mating bond was truly making her understand him better than she should.
"That's not it," he grumbled. "It's just that… I'm your mate, and I'm never there when you need me. That's why you fell for Azriel—" she cut him off.
"Don't let Azriel haunt you. That's in the past."
Lucien's gaze dropped to her plump, rosy lips. Maybe he could cross that barrier? But it wasn't the time. Not with everything happening.
But his mate lifted her head toward him.
He traced his finger along the pulse of her neck and dared to move closer. Her breath mingled with his, and when Elain didn't pull away, he finally kissed her. At first, it was just a soft press of their lips together. Until she parted her lips, and he took the hint, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Lucien groaned at the contact, one of his hands cradling the back of her neck, applying gentle pressure, while his mouth closed around her lower lip, sucking until she let out a breathy moan against him.
"Lucien," she murmured against his mouth.
One of his hands traveled down her legs until it reached her backside and squeezed. For a moment, he forgot she was still in the postpartum period.
But Elowen, who was starting to fuss, brought him back to reality.
"Great," he grumbled, pulling back.
Elain sat up in bed and looked at him, her lips swollen and red, her braid disheveled.
"By the Mother, I nearly forgot I gave birth just two days ago."
He stood and kissed her again, slowly, his tongue sliding against hers, their lips pressing together.
"I have that effect on people," Lucien murmured against her lips, but Elowen's loud crying was killing the mood for both of them.
He turned to the white crib and went to the child, whose face was red and fists clenched.
Lucien picked her up and carried her to the changing table. At least it was just pee; he thanked the Mother above as he changed her diaper. The male put the baby in a yellow outfit and brought her to his mate.
Elain rubbed her eyes but reached out her arms. She slipped her nightgown down and brought Elowen to her breast; the baby latched on eagerly.
"Can't you, I don't know, pump this milk into a bottle so I can help you?" Her cheeks flushed.
"You don't need to be embarrassed," he asked. "We're… in this together. I want to help."
Sometimes he forgot his mate still held onto human traditions and modesty, always uncomfortable discussing her body with him. That, for some reason, made him think of his human best friend. Vassa was going to kill him, and Jurian would help. He needed to tell them the news.
"What are you thinking about?" Elain asked, wrapping an arm around their daughter.
"Vassa," Lucien answered promptly. "I need to see her and Jurian."
The female made a face.
"I think I'll stay here after helping Eris. Don't wait up." He gave her another kiss on the lips and rose from the bed.
Elain cleared her throat.
"Wait, you're going back to your band of exiles?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"They're my best friends," he affirmed softly. "I need to explain everything to them. I'll be back by morning."
The female let out a heavy sigh.
"Just come back here and put Elowen in her crib." Lucien went to them and took the now much calmer baby, laying her back in the crib.
Elain shot him a stern look.
"Should I be worried about you and Vassa?" Her arms were crossed over her chest, her expression bordering on a pout.
He went to her, cupped her face in his hands, and gave her a quick kiss.
"You should be more worried about Jurian," he teased. "I'm only yours, Elain. You can be sure of that."
"Fine, I suppose your mother can help me with Elowen. Good luck with Eris and Morrigan."
The male nodded.
"Thank you. Have a good day with my mother." He gave her another kiss on the cheek; he was completely addicted to touching her.
Lucien had to force himself to leave her; he was utterly devoted to that woman, feeling he could die to prove his love for her.
He slipped into the bath, and as he lathered his body with green apple soap, his thoughts drifted to his mate—the feel of her lips against his, the softness of her backside in his hands.
It was wrong. Completely wrong to be having these thoughts while the world was falling apart, but before he could stop himself, one of his hands was on his length. He moved his fingers, pressing up and down, thinking of the feel of Elain's lips, remembering her soft breasts, her rosy nipples, her skin against his. His hand slickened with pre-ejaculate as his mind recalled the sensation of being inside her, the sounds she made. He came with that sound in his head and slumped against the tub, breathing heavily.
He washed himself twice more before getting dressed, not wanting his older brother and his friend to find out what he'd been doing. The Vanserra dressed in a white blouse with loose sleeves, a red leather vest, and loose black pants. He tucked two daggers into his high boots, his long sword strapped across his back in leather, and three more knives at his waist.
When he descended the stairs, Mor and Eris were already present. He narrowed his eyes and observed the pair. His brother was showing something on a map spread across the table; they stood side by side, shoulders brushing, neither seeming uncomfortable with it.
"Excuse me," he said, stepping between them to look at the map.
Eris turned to him.
"We won't need to do anything except wait for my hounds to show up at the border." The heir pointed at the map. "Kain will release them, and they'll come to me."
Lucien shrugged.
"That's if Father isn't roasting them and preparing to send them to you as dinner."
"Goodness, Lucien," Mor chided. "Poor things."
His brother's amber eyes met his, and he shook his head.
"Can we trust Kain?" the younger asked. "I remember him being as much of a pest as the others."
He remembered one time when he was five and went to ask his older brother for help with a geography assignment; Kain simply kicked him hard in the head. And when Jesminda died, he was right there, encouraging the others to hold him down.
"Trust him? No. But he's the only and best option I have. I doubt Father is letting any guards near anything that belongs to me, but Kain knows where the tunnels under the kennel are, and he owes me one or two favors."
Mor leaned against the table, her gaze fixed on the map before her.
"Do you have any plan to defeat your father?" She turned her head to look at his older brother. "We need to start resolving things here. Montesere is still enslaved, and now Koschei has one of the Dread Trove items. Defeating Beron will be crucial, since everything is connected."
Eris squared his shoulders.
"I need to map out a plan carefully. Find out who my allies are and the limitations of my powers. I'm working on it," he promised. "But I don't know if we can stop the war. I'll need at least two months to build a plan, and it will still have countless openings."
Lucien felt like slamming his head against the edge of the table when he thought about everything that was happening.
Mor ran a hand over her face.
"We'll think about that soon. Right now, we need to save your smokehounds." Mor placed a hand on each brother's shoulder and winnowed to the border between Summer and Autumn.
He took a deep breath, taking in the nature around him. The place was filled with large trees—a mix of babassu palms, magnolias, cedars—the vegetation colorful, a blend of pink, orange, white, and violet flowers. The air was humid due to a stream a few meters ahead. The Autumn border was equally beautiful but with different vegetation. Since it was spring again, the trees had turned green; there was a massive cherry tree right in the center, and the rest was adorned with tall pines, autumn lilacs, leaves, and flowers scattered on the ground. He thought Elain would love a place like this.
Mor leaned against a tree, and his brother's gaze followed her.
The female still wasn't wearing red. That day she had chosen black leather pants with high boots, a white blouse, and a brown leather corset that ended just below her breasts, adorned with daggers.
Eris approached her, climbing the small rise to the tree she was under.
"Will this take long?" the blonde asked. "Maybe your brother is tricking you to bring you back to Autumn and torture you. Both of you." Her honey-colored eyes fixed on him.
Lucien shuddered.
"That sounds like something Kain would do," he murmured.
Eris shrugged.
"If that's the case, I'm prepared. Most of the guards are loyal to me. I'll manage." His brother shot a smug look at the female, who rolled her eyes.
He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the two of them. Their bodies maintained a respectable distance, but there was something in their glances—a provocation, a tension between them.
"Excuse me, may I ask when you two stopped hating each other?" The younger had never understood this relationship.
When he lived in Autumn, Mor's name was practically forbidden. No one dared speak of her broken engagement to his brother. Then, years later, during one of his missions as Emissary, he met her for the first time, and the female had been hostile, to say the least, asking if he was as horrible as his brother. Gradually, the male almost convinced her he wasn't; back then, Lucien even dared to flirt with the female just to provoke Eris, but he never got a reaction from him. Then Amarantha happened, and he forgot Mor existed. When he met her again, the broken engagement was brought up many times, and Lucien understood why the Inner Circle harbored such resentment toward his brother. But now, looking at the two of them, it seemed that horrible situation was no longer between them.
Since they were captured in Montesere, he and Mor had grown much closer—truly friends. But she never spoke of his brother except to insult him.
"Did you two stop hating each other?" he asked suddenly.
"We still hate each other," they answered in unison. "It's just a truce."
Lucien frowned and stared at the Autumn border, still empty.
"Your brother seems to have pulled himself together and decided not to act like a coward, so I'm allowing him to enjoy the pleasure of my company without me trying to impale his head, as he deserves." She flashed a smile at Eris, but he didn't return it.
"I saved you," he snarled back.
"If you don't mind, could you tell me what happened at the border? I won't tell anyone."
They exchanged glances.
"I trust you to keep a secret," Mor descended from the small rise and came to him. "Eris left me there because the mating bond snapped into place for him. I believe you can understand how your brother is a coward; it scared him enough to leave me to die."
Eris grabbed her shoulder forcefully.
"I saved you. Otherwise, we'd both be miserable in my father's court. I gave you freedom, Mor." The heir's amber eyes blazed with intensity. "You know that."
The female seemed resentful, to say the least.
"That's what happened."
Lucien blinked so much it was a wonder his eye didn't simply jam. The world around him seemed to slow; the wind rustling the flowers seemed to stop.
"What?" His voice came out as a whisper.
The world around him was liquid. It only solidified again when he heard barking.
Eris ran to the border and let out a loud whistle with his fingers. His brother was smiling until he wasn't. Lucien only had time to blink before a fire bolt struck his chest.
His mechanical eye focused and unfocused, and when he noticed another bolt coming toward him, he shoved Mor to the ground, and the object hit a tree behind them.
Eris's smokehounds whimpered and went to sniff their fallen master.
"Eris!" Mor shouted. He covered her mouth.
"Shh!" He was trying to think about what was happening. He inhaled the air around him and recognized his brothers approaching.
"Stay down," he ordered the female.
As expected, Viggo, Aidan, and Kain appeared.
"Little brother!" Viggo greeted. "I'd say it's good to see you, but the Truth-Teller beside you would sense my lie."
The two snarled.
Lucien drew his sword from his back, and Morrigan drew hers from her waist.
His brother merely fired a crossbow at them, but Lucien burned the bolt in midair.
"What did you do to Eris?"
His brother was alive; he could still hear the slow beating of his heart. Despite everything that bastard had done to him over the years, he didn't want him to die. In fact, the thought filled him with dread. He felt the fire in his veins threatening to erupt.
Viggo smiled sadistically.
"It's just a Black Widow bolt."
Black Widow was a common poison in Autumn, used to fight enemies at a distance. If the bolt was removed, the poison would spread, and death would be swift, paralyzing the internal organs.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked honestly. "We were all raised by a monster, but we have the same mother. Where did she go wrong with you?"
Lucien didn't want any part in killing more of his relatives, but he needed to get out of there alive. His mate and daughter were waiting for him. And he needed to get Eris to a healer.
Viggo fired the crossbow again, but the blonde destroyed the bolt in the air.
"Eris made his choice," Aidan murmured. "Just like you."
This time, the bolt was aimed at one of Eris's hounds, but Lucien used his magic to deflect it.
He didn't wait for more attacks; he lunged, his sword meeting Viggo's hand, making him drop the crossbow. He was about to strike again when Kain's sword clashed against his. Before Aidan could join in, Mor struck her blade against his and kicked him hard in the stomach. His older brother staggered but came at her again.
Meanwhile, Viggo let flames dance in his hand while Kain continued to press his sword against Lucien. He knew the disciplined fighting style of each of them; he knew it would be hard to break through their defenses.
He focused on their movements. Kain moved his sword low, then up, preventing him from reaching Viggo. All Lucien was doing was defending. But there was no time for that, not when his brother had a Black Widow bolt lodged in his chest.
The flame roared in his chest, but he summoned the light hidden within him, letting it blaze intensely in Kain's eyes. Then he used the wind to snuff out Viggo's flames.
"Bastard." Kain fell to his knees, wiping his eyes. When the other redhead came at him, Lucien made sure to strike him in the shoulder with his blade and elbow him in the nose.
Mor was still fighting Aidan. The female had blood running down her arm, but she advanced against the male, not giving him time to respond properly to her movements. She took advantage of an opening in his flank to strike, and using the distraction, she kicked one of his hands and bit his neck with her sharp teeth. He screamed and shoved her away.
Lucien snarled.
"Run. And maybe Eris will let you live." Like the three cowards they were, they stumbled away.
Mor ran to Eris and pressed her head against his chest, trying to feel his heartbeat.
"It's too slow," she said, almost desperate.
He whistled for the dogs to gather and took Mor's hand. Together, they used their powers to winnow back to Velaris.
Lucien put an arm around his brother and used all his strength to drag him back to the townhouse. Mor flung the door open, and he let Eris fall to the floor. His once-warm skin was colder than it should be.
He had imagined this moment before, when he was younger and Eris mocked him along with the others, or when he made a point of laughing while their father doled out some punishment. But now, with his brother pale and cold, all he felt was despair. Because the same male who tormented him was the one who would lead him away when Beron's fury was too much, who would show him the rivers and lakes of Autumn. Or tell him terrifying stories at night.
"What happened?" Elain entered the room, holding her daughter in her arms. His mother followed close behind.
Eris was definitely paler than normal; his lips were becoming chapped. He knew he couldn't remove the bolt from his brother's chest, or the poison would spread completely.
His mother fell to the floor beside them, placing a hand on Eris's chest.
Before she could say anything, she lowered her head and began to cry.
"Eris?" she called, a sob erupting from her throat as she shook him. Her hands trembled as she desperately tried to do something. "Éris."
…
Elain blinked several times before understanding what was happening. Eris Vanserra was dying in her sister's living room.
She looked at the baby in her arms and set her in an improvised basket. Then she went to the male.
"Where is Madja?" Mor's eyes were filled with tears, one hand on Eris's head, the other on his arm.
Elain pressed her hand to his forehead and let her power consume her all at once.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in a completely dark place. There was water at her feet. And Eris was right in front of her.
"I think you'd better go back," she said, approaching him. A thread was wrapped around his chest and over Elain's hand.
"What is this?" he asked, looking around.
The female shrugged.
"I don't know either. It's never been like this. Usually, I have visions and then see the golden thread. But that's not important. You need to come with me."
Eris narrowed his amber eyes. He was stripped of his elegant clothes; instead, he wore simple pants and a white tunic, his red hair disheveled.
"Maybe I want to go," he shrugged.
She pulled the golden thread.
"Not today, Eris. It seems the thread isn't meant to be cut for you today. Come with me." She reached out her hand to him. "Your mother is waiting for you. Your brother is, too. And your niece still owes you a great favor. A crown awaits you."
Eris finally looked at her and walked toward her.
"A crown?"
Elain gestured for him to look at the rippling water between them, and there was Eris Vanserra seated on a throne, a golden crown upon his head, wearing the most elegant clothes.
The male seemed to lose his breath.
"Is that…?"
"Come back with me, and you'll find out." He finally clasped her hand, and a golden glow formed. When she opened her eyes, they were back in the townhouse living room.
Eris jolted upright.
Madja was there, kneeling between them, along with Rhys and Feyre standing with Nyx.
"By the Mother." Mor went to him and gave him a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her too and squeezed back.
Aruana leaned her shoulder against his head.
Even Lucien seemed relieved, though he tried to hide it.
Madja, the old fae, looked between them.
"This should be impossible," she murmured, trying to understand.
Eris blinked slightly, his head shifting uncomfortably.
"Where are my dogs?"
Lucien seemed to release the breath he had been holding. "They're out there, all seven of them."
Mor also seemed almost to laugh at his concern and moved closer.
One of his hands instinctively went to Mor's hair; he tucked her blonde locks behind her ear and whispered, "I'm all right." Then he traced his hand to the cut on her arm and slid his thumb along it.
Aruana didn't seem to care about maintaining any of her son's dignity as she hugged him.
"Eris." She placed a hand on his cheek. "You almost scared me to death,i don't know what I would do without you."
"I'm fine, Mother." He put an arm around her.
Lucien placed a hand on his chest.
"It was your children who did this," he accused Aruana. "What's wrong with them, for the Mother's love?"
Eris snarled.
"I'm going to rip their heads off," Eris decided. "Those three idiots, hungry for power."
Elain crawled back to her mate.
"My power… I think it's threads that connect to life or death." She turned to Lucien. "I saw the thread with Amren and with Beron at specific moments, and then with Eris."
Lucien frowned.
"Beron?" Aruana asked. "And what did you see?" She still had her hand pressed against Eris's, as if somehow her son would disappear from her sight.
Madja, the old fae, was quiet among them, opening Eris's tunic and beginning to apply ointment to his chest.
"I saw… a hut. He was lying in it, looking very ill. There were fairies around him and a shadow; it was malevolent—I could feel it—and they were performing some kind of magic."
Lucien, Eris, Mor, and Aruana exchanged glances.
Rhys and Feyre approached.
"Do you know what that means?" asked her younger sister.
Aruana explained the story, the tale that said Beron had been killed and resurrected.
"And he paid a price for it," Mor murmured. Her fingers were playing with Eris's bare shoulders, her nails tracing back and forth on his skin.
Aruana sniffled, her cheek still pressed against Eris's shoulder as she sobbed softly.
"So my husband has no soul?" she asked.
"I think he does," Elain began. "But it's corrupted."
"I had… seven children with a man with a corrupted soul?" Lucien's mother seemed disgusted.
"That explains the plagues you had," her mate said carelessly.
His mother shot him a stern look that made him lower his head.
Eris laid his head back on the floor.
"Father wasn't always so bad," he murmured. "When I was a child, as long as I stayed quiet, he tolerated me."
Lucien opened his mouth, then closed it.
"I'm not understanding anything anymore," he admitted.
"Neither am I," Feyre agreed. "I died and came back a couple of times, and I think my soul is pure."
Elain almost laughed at her sister.
"You returned to life with the power of the High Lords. Nesta returned with the Harp. Beron seems to have been revived by black magic."
Eris sat up and thanked Madja.
"You pulled my life thread and I came back. Could you simply… cut my father's?"
Elain put a hand to her head.
"I can't believe I had the chance to kill Beron right in my hands and didn't do it."
Lucien looked at her and kissed her head.
"So my mate is a kind of… being responsible for life and death?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know, exactly."
Rhys sighed.
"Amren needs to check this out, and quickly. If you can simply cut lives like you cut yarn, that could be useful."
"I've heard of something like that before…" Aruana murmured. "They're called Fates. Elain seems to have those powers."
"Where did you hear of that, my lady?" Feyre asked gently.
Lucien's mother blushed like a maiden.
"In the Day Court, High Lady."
Eris looked at his mother and rolled his eyes; no one would guess he had been on the verge of death minutes before.
"I'll ask Helion to come here. Maybe he has some knowledge." Rhysand glanced at Lucien.
Aruana clasped her hands in front of her body, twisting her rings repeatedly.
She had never been so grateful that Elowen started crying, because it dissipated the intensely uncomfortable tension hanging in the air.
"You should rest," Mor suggested to Eris. He whispered something back in her ear that made her slap him as she guided him away; the male still seemed a bit dazed in his steps.
Elain turned to the baby in the basket and picked her up.
Rhys and Feyre also gave a flimsy excuse to leave the room.
Aruana turned to her granddaughter and asked to comfort her; Elain placed Elowen in the woman's arms.
Lucien coughed.
"So the High Lord of the Day Court is coming here," he hummed. "How wonderful, isn't it, Mother?"
Elain sat on the sofa and watched the drama unfold. That house was enormous, but it seemed to get smaller every day with so much happening.
The redhead shot her son a stern look, then squared her shoulders and returned to her neutral mask.
"It seems so. But the High Lord seems important for us to understand Elain's powers." She rocked Elowen in her arms and smiled at her.
"Yes, it seems so," Lucien began. "What were you doing in the Day Court when you heard about the Fates?"
"Me? I believe I was at some gathering. Back then, Hyperion was the High Lord of the Day Court. He invited us to the inauguration of a new library. That was before you were born." She sat in an armchair. "I read many books that day and happened to come across mythology about the threads of life."
Elain was about to open her mouth to say how interesting that was when her mate interrupted.
"Really, Mother? Is that all you did?" His voice was accusatory, to say the least.
The Lady of the Autumn Court looked at him.
"What do you want me to say, Lucien Vanserra? You weren't conceived that day; that much I can tell you."
Elain put a hand over her mouth.
Her mate turned red.
"Mother! Helion is coming here, and you're here, and I'm here. Aren't you going to say anything? What if he kicks me, I don't know."
She let out a little laugh.
"Lucien," Elain began. "Helion isn't going to kick you. Don't be silly."
Aruana pointed at her.
"Listen to your mate. You can leave if you want. Go to your apartment."
"Is that what you want?" he asked, irritated. "Years with Father have made you complacent!"
Aruana took a deep breath.
"Lucien, I understand you're worried about your biological father's judgment. But I can assure you, Helion will be thrilled to know you're his son. You are my light, my greatest pride in this life. I love Helion. And I wouldn't love a male who wouldn't love what I hold most precious."
That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Lucien calmed down.
He sat beside Elain.
"Great. Helion Spell-Cleaver is coming here, and he's going to find out he's a father."
"And a grandfather," Elain completed.