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I sigh in relief when I feel the shallow pulse beneath my fingers and proceed to survey the rest of her wounds and injuries. I whip my head up when I see a commotion from the corner of my eye and pull out my sword in the same motion and take a protective stance over Mor’s broken body, ready to end whoever dares to approach, but the enemy never appears; instead, I feel the magic in the air as they winnow out.
‘Who was that?’ I ask my shadows
‘Heir of fire; son of autumn.’ They reply curtly.
My heart skips a beat.
‘Why was he here?’
‘We don’t know.’
‘Why do you think he was here?’ I correct myself.
‘He waited to make sure Lady of Truth was unharmed until she was rescued.’
I sigh dreamily and pick Mor up carefully without jostling her much, and command my shadows to take us to Velaris.
My thoughts wander back to the male. I have seen Heir of Autumn Court only once, and that was from afar, and I have to admit the heir is one Damn Fine of a specimen, drop-dead gorgeous, era-defining beauty, and it's not hard to notice even with all the glaring, snarling, and evil laughter going on. He’s sin-wrapped in skin and bone and should be illegal. It killed me when I saw how beautiful the male was, but they made me wish I was dead when they announced his betrothal to the woman I thought I was in love with. (Cassian, my so-called brother, and she put an end to that fantasy pretty quickly and quite ruthlessly, I might add.)
I fly into the house of wind and gently place her on her bed as Rhys and Cassian walk into her bedroom.
“Majda is on her way. Mother is flying her up.”
I listen and do not say anything. We wait in silence, and when Majda and the Lady of the Night Court walk in after five minutes, all three of us are kicked out of the room.
I take the post by the window to watch the cityscape below as Rhys takes a seat nearby and watches Cassian pace back and forth in frustration and guilt.
It isn’t until Mor wakes up and relates her side of the story that we all settle. Since I wasn’t there to witness any of it, I paid attention,
After she departed from Windhaven, when her father found out what she had done—she was the one to announce it apparently—he beat his daughter black and blue and dumped her in the Autumn Court after her assault with a note nailed to her belly stating that she was Eris's problem to serve as a reminder to the daughter who sullied their name.
Eris, even though he spewed venom in front of his entourage of soldiers and guards and forbade anyone from touching her, whispered to her to hang in there and informed her that help was on the way, but she’s not sure if that was a hallucination or not caused by pain.
‘He did say that to her.’ My shadows confirm
‘By help, did he mean us?’ I ask, to which they reply in the affirmative.
‘How did he know we were coming?’
‘He called for us.’
I jolt at that and ask in surprise, ‘pretty boy did what?’
‘He called for us. He let us know the coordinates to find the lady.’
‘How did he manage to do that? Is he secretly a shadowsinger too?’ I ask perplexed.
My shadows twirl around in humor and reply, ‘He’s not a shadowsinger, but he is the son of autumn. He is autumn. The land, the trees, and the breeze of autumn sing to him and do his bidding. There is fire running in his veins. He might not sing to us like you do, but his blood is just as potent. When he calls, nature will answer, us included.’
I’m… impressed. I’m so immersed in my awe of male that it takes me a minute to register what Cassian says.
“I’m going to kill that motherfucker when I get my hands on him.” Cassian growls.
“I don’t think my father will appreciate you attacking Keir, Cass. Calm down. She’s safe now.” Rhys placates
“Keir will get what he deserves. It’s Eris Vanserra who’s going to die before that.” He snaps.
I was planning on ignoring his yapping until he said that. Even Rhys went fully still at that.
“Excuse me?” I whisper hiss.
“Az is right, Cass. You’ll start a war between courts if anyone hears you say such things. He’ll get what he deserves. Be patient.” Rhys tries to placate him again.
“I. Don’t. Care!” Cass hisses, “I will kill him. How dare he leave her there to die? What kind of male does that!?” He adds, disgust evident in his tone.
“How’s the view?” I ask with a dry tone.
“What?” He asks, confused.
“The view from the high horse you’re riding!” I say it with a straight face.
“You have something to say; say it!” He growls and takes a menacing step towards me. I continue to lounge against the window and watch Rhys hold him back.
“Stop it!” Mor whines from where she’s leaning against the headrest.
“Say it!” Cassian prompts, so I do,
“I mean, you are the problem. Why are you blaming the poor boy? Why is it his responsibility to pay for your stupidity? He doesn’t owe us shit. In fact, we owe him for making sure she was safe, untouched, and, more importantly, not dead.”
“Are you taking his side?” Mor looks at me with hurt in her eyes, and I respond by rolling my eyes. “I thought you loved me!” She says it with the saddest tone she can muster.
I raise an eyebrow at her in question before blatantly turning my head to look at Cassian’s devastated face.
Well, I guess the rose-tinted glasses do come off when the woman you thought you loved fucks your so-called brother! So I say,
“When did that “thought” occur? Before or after you fucked my best friend?” I ask, and when they both open their mouths to speak, I hold out my hand to stop them.
“I don’t really care. Don’t get it twisted—you are and will always be free to fuck whoever you desire, and don’t owe me a shit as long as you don’t try to misuse my affections for you. To answer your question, I did like you, and I got over it, but if you ever try to manipulate me again, you and I will have problems. Are we clear?”
She nods and bows her head in shame, and I continue.
“As for Eris, he. doesn’t. owe. us. shit! If any of you try to slander him and make him the villain of this story, you’ll have me to deal with in the aftermath.” I warn them.
“Why are you still supporting him?” Cassian hisses.
I roll my eyes to heaven and back!
Illyrians!
I exhales slowly and explain with a taunting tone, “Eris is not the one who proposed the betrothal; that was Keir, her father, and Beron, the high lord of autumn! Not Eris! Then, Eris was not the one who fucked you to get out of said betrothal; that was Morrigan! Again, not Eris! After that, it was Keir who assaulted his daughter and dumped her on the autumn grounds with a note nailed to her stomach! Kier, not Eris! You know what Eris did do? Not hit her or kill her, or touch her. That’s what he did. That’s more mercy than any fae in his position would’ve shown.” I address Mor directly and say, “I’m not belittling your trauma and pain, but I’m also not going to let you use them as an excuse to slander someone else and ruin their name and their life. I hope that you understand that I’ll support you and help you heal in any way I can, but not by accosting someone equally innocent.”
I nod back when Mor nods.
“If that coward had stopped the betrothal, then it wouldn’t have come to this!” Cassian sulks.
“Why couldn’t Rhys do it? Or mor? If you want to call the heir of autumn a coward, be prepared to hold the mirror to the heir of night court and his cousin too.” I hiss.
The silence after I utter those words is meaningful.
I push off the window and make my way to the exit, but just before leaving, I turn to warn them one last time.
“I mean it—keep Eris’ name out of your mouths. Remember, words and actions have serious consequences, and I will be that consequence if anybody tries to slander the heir’s name.”
🦇✨❤️🔥🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂❤️🔥✨🦇
It takes two weeks before the murderous tension between autumn and night mellows into its usual exist-where-I-can’t-see-you tension. It took a lot of bootlicking on Keir’s part to calm the high lord of autumn, but it feels like it’s going to be back to normal again.
So I do the only thing that’s been on my mind for the last two weeks: shadow walk to the winter borders and fly over autumn to gauge the situation before landing and sneaking into the forest house in search of the heir.
I find the heir in his office adjacent to his bedroom in his bedchamber, his head buried in paperwork. His head whips in my direction as soon as I enter his office, but he ignores me and goes back to his work.
I double check that my shadows are still covering me and that not even my scent has been let out, and yet I can’t shake the distinct feeling that the heir knows about my presence.
As long as he’s ignoring it, I decide I don’t care and continue to watch him work.
Is it creepy? Yes.
Is it considered stalking? Also yes.
Do I care? No.
Will I stop? Also no.
I mean, nobody can blame me. The male is god among fae. Not just because he’s built like a god or that he has a face that I’m sure makes mother proud of her creation, but because he’s kind. Kindness that speaks of the strength of his character and soul. For a fae made of fire, he sure is calm-spirited.
Watching him brings peace to my soul, and just like the first time I saw him, I couldn’t look away. I’m spellbound. So it takes me a second to realize that he’s speaking to me.
“You got a lot of nerve coming here during times like this!” He talks without lifting his head, like he knows I’m listening and latching on to his every breath.
A shiver runs down my spine in excitement and anticipation of our first proper conversation, but it might also be because he has an accent that is rare and decadently delicious. I stay put and do not say anything. I even hold my breath so as not to make a move.
He lifts his head and folds his hands on the table after dropping his pen, and waits. When I refuse to make a sound, he rolls his eyes and says, “You know, I know you’re here. Why don’t you just come on out? It’s rude to hide in shadows when addressed, shadowsinger.” Amusement shone in his perfect golden eyes.
I sigh and step out of my shadows, expecting a dagger to my throat, but the heir does not do such a thing. He sits poised and waits for me to approach, and when I’m in lunging distance, he nods to the chair opposite him.
“I come in peace.” I offer up as I take a seat and add, “I didn’t mean any harm to you, your highness.”
“Just Eris is fine! If you didn’t come here with ill intent, why are you here, Shadowsinger?”
I smile unintentionally at how calm and kind he is towards a member of an enemy court.
“I’m Azriel. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
He smirks and nods and repeats his question,
“Why are you here, Azriel? What can I do for you?”
My smile falters, and my heart beats out of its cage at hearing him say my name.
I am officially fucked!
“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t come for anything? I… I just wanted to see you!” I confess.
He blinks slowly.
“Do you take me for a fool? Am I to believe that you are here to see me for no reason?”
I nod slowly.
“I didn’t think I was going to get caught. I didn’t even know that was possible, to be honest. I just… I want to check on you after the whole Betrothal debacle.”
He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes at me, “Why!?”
“I’m not really sure. I just wanted to.” I answer honestly.
“You do know I abandoned your friend at the border without a care, yes!?”
“Did you now!?” I ask sarcastically.
He raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow in question, so I add,
“I was under the assumption that you called for help and that you stayed until I arrived.”
He jolts and grits his teeth. He closes his eyes and breathes slowly to calm himself before speaking.
“Who else knows?”
“All of it—just me. Heir to night court, your ex-fiancée and Cassian know that you informed Mor about help being on the way. Nobody is going to talk, Eris. Not a word of it. I promise.” I try to hurriedly assure him.
“And I should take your word for it?” He enquires
“Yes. If anyone were to talk, they already would have, don’t you think?”
He lets out a controlled breath and relaxes slightly.
“Are you here to blackmail me?”
“Mother above, no! I’m just here to see you and check up on you.”
He rests his cheek on his palm and stares at me with intent.
“I’m not lying, heir of autumn. Would you like to bargain with me? Will that let you trust me?”
“Word it!” He challenges me with a smirk.
I meet his challenge with a smile and do as I’m told,
“I will not betray you or harm you, which means I will never harm you or let anyone else harm you, neither alone nor with others doing the deed. I will prevent endangering you honestly and with all my might, and in return, you do the same.”
“How long do you think you’d want to be bound to me like this?”
“Lifetime.” I say it without hesitation.
His smile drops, “The lifetime of an immortal is a long, long time, Azriel. If I were you, I would be very careful before making such proclamations.” He warns seriously.
“I know,“ I say softly.
“Why? Why me?”
“I know a rare and priceless gem when I see one. You are precious, and I would like to be in your general vicinity if you’d let me.” I reply
“You want to be what? My friend?”
“You are an heir to court, Eris Vanserra. I’m a low-class born bastard. Fae like us don’t get to befriend the likes of you. I would like to be of service to you. You’re kind and of true heart; it would be an honor to protect and serve you.” I say and bow my head slightly in show of respect. I also add, “I also think you look like god among fae. Mother’s most precious creation. Absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. So getting to watch you will be my reward!”
He unexpectedly laughs and shakes his head.
“I’m not agreeing to that bargain of yours. I also reject your offer to protect and serve me.”
I let out an ‘oh’ in disappointment at his words, but before the disappointment can set in, he adds,
“I would like to be your friend if you like. No bounds, just friends.”
“You want to be friends with me? And you want me to do nothing for you in return?”
“Friends don’t become friends for what they can do for each other, Azriel. That’s transactional, business! Not friendship.”
I blink. By that definition, I have no friends.
“And YOU want to be my friend?”
“Yes. I think I would like that.”
“O-okay.”
He chuckles and asks, “Would you like to stay for a drink and talk? Get to know each other?”
This is the simplest decision of my life: “Yes.”