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When Eris awoke, it wasn’t the unpleasant jolting awake from nightmares that he’d grown used to over the last five centuries.
The room was still comfortably dark and warm, the low embers from the fireplace hardly glowing amongst the ash and coals. The Solstice candles in his window had long since burned down, pools of wax dried and stiff beneath them. He’d been sleeping on his stomach atop the silk sheets, his face tucked into the crook of an arm folded beneath his head. Though most nights now he slept less fitfully, surrounded by plush velvet in the traditional earthen tones of the Forest House, he still had a tendency to jerk awake. Some nights, the nightmares still thrust him into consciousness, biting back a scream and covered in a cold sweat.
This, however, had been a soft awakening, one that left him feeling well-rested despite the late hour. He hadn’t moved since opening his eyes—he didn’t need to. He could feel the stirring presence without seeking it out, the thrumming and pulsing notable even in the dead silence.
He wouldn’t make a sound until Eris had addressed his presence.
Eris sighed, feeling his own breath skate across the forearm that still cradled his head.
“Shadowsinger.” His guest did not move, no rustling of fabric or wings to expose himself, but after a time, he did respond.
“High Lord.” The male’s voice was low and smooth, tumbling through the darkness as though it belonged there. Eris barely suppressed a shiver. Still, he did not move, resisting the near soul-rending urge to track the male with his eyes.
He kept his voice measured, focused on slowing the beat of his racing heart. Azriel would hear it–he always did. “I don’t know how you keep getting in here.”
“It’s not hard.”
Eris nearly snorted at that, the urge to make a joke sitting heavy on the back of his tongue.
“What is it you want?” The words were meant to be clipped, but they emerged more breathless than he’d intended, the sound carrying quietly through the air. There was no response from across the room, but Eris felt the lightest touch across his lower back, exposed with the sheet at his waist. It was like a warm breeze, dancing over his skin and pebbling his exposed flesh with goosebumps.
He wasn’t sure why, but he’d never imagined the shadows as being warm. Long ago, he’d wondered more than once if they’d feel cold and unforgiving against his skin. He’d imagined, cock in hand, on quite a few occasions whether or not they might feel like a rush of night air against him. Would they feel firm like flesh, or ephemeral and otherworldly? The first time those imaginings had come to life, he’d been pleasantly surprised at the warm caress, the sweeping heat of them across his already-flushed skin.
The shadow twisted and undulated up his spine, Eris fighting the arch in his back until the touch skittered devilishly over his shoulders and up to the pointed tip of his ear.
It wasn’t often Azriel let them out to play, but Eris always enjoyed it when he did.
He startled at the bowing mattress beside him, so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Azriel coming closer.
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“No, you aren’t.” There was no displeasure in Eris’ response. He wasn’t sorry either.
Azriel’s hand traced the same path the shadow had, trailing slowly from Eris’ ass to his spine, the textured surface brushing over the dips and valleys of his own scars. This time, Eris couldn’t fight off the shudder that ran through him. He didn’t need to look at Azriel to know he’d find that bragging smirk barely toying at the edges of his mouth, but he did anyway.
Each and every time, he was struck by the beauty of the Illyrian. The Shadowsinger of the Night Court, hewn from darkness and marble, from night and from cobalt, exacting his payment in screams, one way or another. His eyes reminded Eris of the forest floor, fallen leaves and moss glowing beneath the sun-dappled skies. They were earthen, they were heavenly, they were not of this world.
“No, I am not.” Azriel slid his hand up Eris’ neck, finding purchase in his hair and tugging back enough that Eris’ head left the safety of his arm, arching back without his eyes ever once leaving the male’s.
“I’ll ask you again, Shadowsinger,” Eris felt the shiver through the hand holding his hair as he drew out each syllable. “What is it that you want?”
It was Solstice, and Eris knew Azriel had spent it with his family. All day long, he’d been throwing snowballs with his idiot brothers. Eris fought back a scoff. He knew for dinner, he would have been sequestered with the entirety of their friend group, which was overwhelming at the very best of times. His Shadowsinger liked quiet, and as much as Eris knew he loved his family, he also knew the lack of control over his schedule exhausted him, leaving him ragged and twitchy in the aftermath.
Eris loved nothing more than rebuilding that control with him. They’d had plenty of fun in the past as they’d both learned what the other needed. All Azriel had to do was say the words.
The room was quiet, the air feeling as though it was breathing in and out with them as Eris waited. It was all part of the game, part of the buildup that they knew and loved so well. The bed shifted as Azriel leaned in closer, his breath caressing Eris’ ear on an exhale before he spoke.
“I want you.”
It was all the permission he needed.
In seconds, Eris had risen entirely from the bed, standing next to it wearing nothing but a pair of undershorts he slept in. He ran hot, and he kept the room warm with blankets sturdy enough to keep the chill away even on the coldest nights. Azriel acquiesced to the shift in their dynamic, despite his easy ability to go toe-to-toe with Eris in most circumstances. Eris bit back a groan at the sight. Azriel fell on his knees by the bed, the nearly nonexistent light from the hearth illuminating only the sharpest planes of his face.
“You’ve got me, then,” Eris spoke through a smirk, lacing his fingers tightly through Azriel’s dark curls. Azriel’s eyes slipped shut at the gesture, his palms sliding up Eris’ bare thighs, burning to the touch. Eris touched his other hand to Azriel’s cheek, cupping his jaw, and Azriel leaned in to it. “Open your eyes and look at me, Shadowsinger.”
He did. Eris’ eyes adjusted in the dark, the glowing hazel orbs piercing through him though they looked up through lowered lashes. He felt the gaze all the way down his body, settling warm in his lower belly like a cat in front of a fire. In his eyes, he felt his need reflected, the abject wanting so apparent that it nearly sent Eris to his own knees. He’d never tire of the ache he felt around this male. No one else could undo him so thoroughly.
“Take off your shirt,” Eris demanded, and Azriel quickly obliged, removing each of the buckles and buttons meticulously and efficiently, tossing the leathers onto the ground behind him and letting his wings stretch as Eris stared on in approval.
“Are you going to be good for me?” Eris asked, injecting the teasing tone so thoroughly into his voice that he almost annoyed himself . He could see Azriel losing the fight against rolling his own eyes before taking a deep breath and agreeing, his nod only perceptible in the dark room by Eris’ hand still pressed against him. “Ah, ah. Good males use their words.”
Azriel’s wings twitched and rustled as he bared his teeth, his every instinct fighting against the urge to be bossed around and spoken down to. But Eris knew what he liked, knew he craved the order, and he tightened the grip on his curls.
“Yes, I’m going to be good,” Azriel gritted through clenched teeth, wings moving in slight pulses behind him in time with the beating of his heart. But Eris noticed, he always did.
“Going to be good for whom, Shadowsinger?” He relished in the quiet snarl from Azriel’s lips as he tried to pull back and couldn’t.
“For you, High Lord.”
Eris smiled. “Perfect. Now take out my cock.” Despite there only being a single layer of pressed silk holding his erection back, he still desperately needed it off. Azriel wasted no time reaching for the waistband, pulling the shorts down so slowly Eris almost released a snarl of his own. He gasped at the first touch of open air against flushed skin, then bit back the groan roaring within him demanding release as Azriel gripped his cock firmly in his hand.
Eris was just about to tell him to continue when Azriel took him into his mouth, the wet heat of it nearly sending Eris’ soul from his body as he gripped the bedpost for balance. He could feel Azriel’s smile trying to work against the stretch of his lips, and he growled in response, tightening the hold on his hair and taking matters into his own hands. If Azriel was feeling bratty tonight, Eris would gladly indulge him.
With his free hand, Eris reached out, long fingers brushing across the wings that were directly at arm’s height when Azriel kneeled before him. He felt the male jerk beneath him, lips pulling tight around him as his body tensed and released.
“Are we going to behave, Shadowsinger?” Eris’ tone was lofty, betraying nothing of the absolute upheaval surging within his veins. Azriel’s mouth on him was incomprehensible, and he knew absolutely every way to undo Eris entirely. But in response, Azriel only doubled down his efforts, taking Eris deeper into his throat and swallowing around him so matter-of-factly that the air nearly punched from Eris’ lungs.
Eris ran his hand along the uppermost ridge of the wing, the skin feather-soft and moveable over tendons, tissue, and bone. He loved the stupid bat’s wings, had been mesmerized by them since the first time he’d seen them. And when Azriel had finally invited him to touch them, it had been a night of discovery for them both. He had memorized every scar, every bump and jagged line that marred the membranes since. He knew the places that made his Shadowsinger squirm and the ones that made him hum with quiet contentment or scream with unyielding ecstasy. He prided himself on knowing these wings, a map of his lover, and as he slid fingers up to grasp the talon, he grinned as he felt Azriel buck beneath him.
Eris allowed his eyes to slip closed and his head to tip back as he reveled in the feeling of Azriel losing pace beneath him, knowing intimately each movement he made without looking. He sighed as he felt the hands caressing over his legs, blunt nails lightly scratching across freckled thighs as he grabbed and pulled for more, the touches on his wing making him wild. Eris allowed himself to rock forward, finding pace as Azriel relented to him, submitted to him. He wanted to look down at his Shadowsinger, Spymaster for the entire court of Night, as he ruined him, while he fucked into his pretty mouth with abandon. But he knew the moment he beheld the male’s face, he’d be done, and he wanted this to last.
His instincts, however, won out, as he twined his other hand into the lush curls of Azriel’s hair, soft and inviting. The vibrations of the humming moan around his cock almost had him coming while he scraped his nails against Azriel’s scalp. He felt Azriel’s jaw slacken, his tongue moving devilishly against the underside of him, and his own control was lost. He rocked forward once, twice, setting a brutal pace as he held the male’s head in his hands.
“ Fuck .” The word rushed out of him as a coarse whisper. It felt so good, so all-encompassing, as Azriel’s hands still ghosted across his flesh. They invited him in, asking for more, more, more, and Eris would gladly oblige.
He chanced a look and felt momentarily as though he were somewhere else, watching something so magnificent as a spectator instead of a participant. The sounds were obscene as he fucked into the Shadowsinger’s mouth, the tears streaming down Azriel’s face. Eris removed a hand from his hair, not breaking pace for even a moment, and reaching down to smear the tears so they mixed with the saliva running down the male’s chin. He exhaled harshly, loving to see the male beneath him fall apart at his hands.
“You look so pretty when you cry for me, Shadowsinger.”
Azriel didn’t respond, but instead hollowed out his cheeks and sucked hard while he reached up to take hold of Eris. Distantly, Eris heard the cracking of the bedpost he was holding onto, a barked curse from his own lips as his vision nearly blacked out. The room temperature was rising as he pulsed closer and closer to the edge, despite the fire being nearly out. He might have been embarrassed at the keening cry that left his own mouth when Azriel pulled off of him had his warm, familiarly textured hand not immediately taken over. When he came, ropes of it coating Azriel’s chest and neck, Eris couldn’t be bothered to care about a single other thing, his breath coming out in harsh pants as his vision slowly returned.
Azriel didn’t give him time to recover.
“My turn.” The words were dark with promise, and Eris could feel his traitorous body already responding again as he was pushed onto the bed.
“Hang on. I can’t–my vision–” Azriel’s laugh cut him off, and Eris was suddenly aware it wasn’t the orgasm blinding him, but the shadows. He felt them, warm and gentle but nonetheless binding across his eyes.
There was no one else he’d allow this with, no one else he trusted enough. With no time to process, he jumped as he felt the press of Azriel’s lips on his collarbone. He hadn’t felt him as he’d moved over him, the predatory nature of the Shadowsinger allowing him to move in absolute silence Eris arched into the touch, body begging for more. Azriel’s mouth moved up the column of Eris’ neck, hot kisses and licks left in its wake.
“Please.” Eris whispered the word into the darkness, a plea, for what he wasn’t sure.
“Now, now, fireling. You’ll get what I give and you’ll thank me for it.” Azriel’s voice had changed, the tone and tempo low and filled with the threat of things to come. Eris shivered beneath him. As much as Eris loved the control, Azriel excelled in it. They’d learned long ago to compromise.
“I’m not a fireling anym– unh .” Azriel’s mouth was back on Eris then, his cock hard in his mouth despite the sensitivity. There was no practicality to it as there had been before, no strong efforts to get him off. Instead, Azriel took his time, swirling his tongue around his sensitive crown, fisting the base, and twisting his hand as he slowly pulled. The sensations were too much, the overwhelm too intense as Azriel continued on.
“I can’t, please. It’s too much.”
“You’ll do it because I told you to.” Eris was held to the mattress, the shadows still soft but firm now as they twisted around his arms and neck. The pull was erotic and comforting and binding all in one. They tightened around him as he groaned, allowing Azriel to resume his ministrations as Eris bucked his hips.
“You want it. I know you do,” Azriel breathed, his sinful lips still pressed to the side of Eris’ cock. Eris still couldn’t see, couldn’t sit up or to try either, as Azriel smeared his thumb over the tip of him.
Perfect.
The word hummed through Eris’ mind as he forced himself to stop straining, despite the Shadowsinger taking him into his mouth with much more enthusiasm again. The cry that left him was nearly animal, his body wanting to both lean in and jerk away. It was too much, it wasn’t enough– it was everything and nowhere near it all at once.
“Please, gods , please.”
“I’m not sure, fireling. I don’t know that you’ve earned it.” Eris felt Azriel’s fingers working lower, pausing to toy again at the base of him then moving lower still. He heard his bedside table drawer open, feet away, knowing the shadows were here to assist when he heard the clink of a small bottle opening. Without his sight, everything else was clearer. Every sound, every smell, every touch . His Shadowsinger smelled of freshly cut wood and the night air before a snow. He smelled of the outdoors, of the night sky, of that gentle undertone of spice and nutmeg that only Eris could bring out in him. His body arched at the thought.
Mine.
“That’s right, arch your back for me.” The breath that left Eris in response was ragged, his pulse jumping erratically beneath his skin, his whole body flushed. And when Azriel’s fingers met his entrance, he forced himself to relax into the touch, allowing him in without hesitation.
“Such a good High Lord, aren’t you? You’ll do anything I want.” Eris was mindless with the words. He loved it. He didn’t have it in him to brat tonight, the feelings stacking up on top of one another and riding that knife’s edge hard between pleasure and pain.
“Yes– yes !” He wasn’t above begging as Azriel added another finger then a third, the slide of the oil against his skin as erotic as the mouth on him.
Eris felt like he was going to explode from his skin, the orgasm building without his permission, threatening to boil over and take everything he was with it. It twisted around his spine, pulling his entire body taut. But every time he felt that wave cresting, Azriel would slow down, pull away, easing back into teasing licks and gentle touches.
Eris was going to lose his mind. Autumn’s new High Lord would be found naked in his bed, death caused by edging.
“Please! Gods, Azriel, please!” He would do anything, everything. He would move mountains, rearrange Prythian. He would suffer through a family dinner with Azriel’s family. So long as he could just fucking come.
“You’re so pretty when you beg.” And with that, Azriel curled his fingers, finding that spot that made Eris see stars. This time, Azriel had taken his cock deeply enough into his mouth that when he came with a muffled shout, Azriel held him still, cradled within his hips and slowing himself down enough to work Eris through it. As he came down, the shadows pulled away from his eyes, the still low glowing embers now seeming too bright by contrast.
“ Cauldron… ” He felt like he’d been gutted, killed, and reborn entirely from the pleasure of his release.
“I’m not finished with you.”
“I was under no misgivings.” His laugh was ragged, his voice hoarse as Azriel stilled between Eris’ thighs as he settled. Azriel’s wings snapped open above them, a cover that blocked even the small amounts of light in the room. Eris loved this, this bubble for just the two of them. He’d never say the words aloud, never give him the satisfaction, but if he had to admit it to himself, it was where he felt safest in the world. For a long time, it had been the only place he’d felt safe.
Azriel bowed down, bypassing Eris’ face to lower himself to the juncture of shoulder and neck. Eris struggled to hold still as the male inhaled deeply, the knowledge that he was scenting him so intoxicating that Eris couldn’t bite back the groan inching through his gritted teeth.
“Are you going to do something or just smell me like a dog?” The words had barely passed his lips before the scarred hand of the Shadowsinger had Eris’ throat in hand, squeezing just enough that the High Lord’s mind warned him, danger, danger, danger. But instead of rising to the bait, when hazel eyes met amber, Azriel just smirked then dipped again to lick up the column of Eris’ neck. The whine that left him felt more animal than fae, the wet heat of Azriel’s tongue burning into his skin like a welcome branding. He had no time to recover before the male’s lips met his own.
Kissing the Shadowsinger was unlike anything Eris had felt before, each one feeling just as explosive as the one before. Any time his plush lips met Eris’ own, it was like seeing the night sky or the Autumn trees for the very first time. It felt like rebirth, like joy, the simple pleasure of it being enough to unhinge Eris entirely, all thoughts blowing from his mind like leaves in the wind.
Eris focused long enough to reach between them, his hand finding the rough fabric over Azriel’s straining cock, realizing with stuttered thoughts that he was still wearing pants somehow. He palmed him once, then again more firmly, causing Azriel to grind forward against him.
“Good boy,” Eris said, his tone cloying again while the male sucked dark bruises into the pale skin of his neck.
“Don’t fucking push it,” he murmured, lips still attached, and the vibration that hummed through Eris nearly hardened him entirely again. Eris waved his fingers once, the metallic tang of magic burning through the air, crisp and fast, as Azriel’s clothing disappeared into the ether and he scoffed against Eris.
“No more magic tonight, fireling.”
“Not even for–”
“No. I want to do it myself.” The words ignited a new fire in Eris as Azriel kissed him, the burning back, sizzling up and down his spine while Azriel raked hands over his naked hips, pulling him closer and grinding down. The Shadowsinger gasped when Eris took him in hand, and as always, Eris marveled at the substantial heft of the male’s length. Azriel gasped into his mouth, the sound an echo chamber for the pleasure that he pulled from Eris in response, his fingers returning to brush against the crease of Eris’ ass.
Azriel enthusiastically picked up where he left off before, continuing his infuriatingly calm ministrations while Eris slowly unraveled beneath him. Immediately overwhelmed by the sensations, the feeling of Azriel’s steady fingers opening him the only point of focus.
“You take me so well, High Lord. Have I ever told you that?”
“You may have mentioned it once or twice.” In another world, Eris might have been embarrassed at the need in his voice, the absolutely unabashed wanting , but all he could think of now was the cock hard in his hand, the fingers working inside of him, the male above him, perfect lips pressing over and over into his own.
Azriel’s fingers left Eris on a whine from the High Lord, and both his hands and shadows wandered back over Eris’ hips, the shiver coursing through him rattling him to his core, urging him to arch into the feeling, the sensation. He wanted him everywhere at once, no scrap of skin untouched by his lovely hands. Then the world was turning, the startling sensation of being flipped as those perfect hands dug into his skin. As he sunk his chest into the mattress, leaning into the movement, he hoped it left bruises.
A hand smoothed up Eris’ spine, pushing the exhale from his lips like a prayer. The anticipation might kill him, the waiting winding him tighter than a coil, a bowstring nearly ready to split in two. Then the hand pushed between his shoulder blades, his body bowing into the mattress like an acolyte at an altar.
“Beautiful,” Azriel whispered, and Eris tried to strangle the emotion caught in his throat before it met the open air. He placed his forehead down on folded arms, already a thin sheen of sweat across his face.
Touch me, touch me, touch me. The words buzzed in his head, resounded through his thoughts as though the shadows sang a chorus just for the two males.
Touch him, touch him, touch him.
The mattress dipped as Azriel moved closer, leaving no room between them for stray thoughts or second guessing. The steady weight of him at his backside left a sense of calm coating the anticipation that Eris could feel marrow-deep, the knowing that, no matter what came next, he had him, body and soul. His touch was tender, coaxing, a final clink of the small glass bottle in the darkness and then the press of his cock against Eris. He tried not to flinch, forcing himself to breathe, relax, and press back into him. The noise that left Azriel took the very air from Eris’ own lungs, the sting of the stretch nothing compared to the heaven of the noises that could be wrenched from his Shadowsinger.
Azriel’s hand held onto Eris’ hip with a grip both soft and intentional, the other holding the base of himself as he forged forward. Each push longer than the last, each inch closer to the completion they both craved in each other. Eris cried out as he felt the press of hips against his skin, Azriel seated fully inside of him and holding still.
“Don’t make me beg you to move, please.” Eris’ voice was ragged, his breath stuttering out in staccato gasps at the feeling of absolute fullness, of complete oblivion. With a sound that sent a flare of arousal even more deeply through Eris, Azriel began to move, folding forward over Eris and kissing his shoulder lightly.
“But you’re so lovely when you do.” Azriel gave a quick thrust and Eris pitched forward, a keening sound leaving him as he did.
“ Fucking gods …” Eris gasped into the mattress, rumpling the sheets in his hands as Azriel began to quicken his pace. Eris could already feel his third orgasm building, the fire in his belly roaring like an inferno while the pleasure wrapped tightly around his spine.
“The only god you’ll be crying out to is me, fireling.” But Eris could hear the strain in Azriel’s voice, the sensations pouring through him mirrored in the male behind him.
“Shit, you’re tight. So good. Like heaven.” The praise fell from Azriel’s tongue, the honeyed words setting Eris’ soul alight, making him soar higher and higher, dancing on the edge of something that threatened to pull him entirely apart. Eris felt each thrust into him, moving through every piece of his body until it reverberated in his soul. The tender brush of the shadows looped around his arms up to his wrists, coiling like protective snakes and settling between his fingers as he arched back, meeting the male’s every movement.
Azriel’s pace began to falter, the shadows twitching around Azriel’s fingers as though they pulsed with him. And then, without warning, they tightened and pulled Eris back. His back met the Shadowsinger’s chest, the changing angle causing them both to call out without missing a beat while Eris’ hands fumbled to grab the headboard. He could feel Azriel’s face in his neck, sense the urge he felt as the male’s arms wrapped around his torso, one hand finding his cock and the other bracing across his ribs as he set a punishing pace.
“Bite me,” Eris panted out, knowing how close they both were.
Azriel sunk his teeth into his shoulder without hesitation, the pain giving way to blinding hot pleasure, whiting out Eris’ vision as he did.
“Tell me you’re mine, Shadowsinger. Give it all to me,” he demanded, his need overriding his good sense.
“ Fuck ,” Azriel barked out the word. “I’m yours. I’m yours.” The words were enough, pushing Eris into an orgasm so powerful he felt the wood splinter beneath his hand as he came into Azriel’s tight grip. Fire exploded into the darkness of the room, the flames engulfinging them both as it poured from Eris. Once, Azriel might have shied away, but he trusted the blaze not to burn him, the broad swaths of his shadows immediately rising and twining around the columns of fire. Azriel released Eris from his grip only to immediately grab both sides of Eris’ hips and pull his body flush with his own. Eris heard the violent snap of wings as Azriel spilled into him with a roar, the force of it so powerful they both pitched forward against the pillows and cracked wood.
The flames simmered to a dull glow as they breathed together, Azriel fully against Eris’ back, their bodies heaving in time with each other. The shadows stroked down the remaining flames, coaxing them slowly back into Eris. The warmth receded but still spilled out into the room to keep the chill away while they lowered themselves to the mattress below.
The two rolled over in the dark, bodies slicked with sweat as they panted together, the air between them heavy with breaths holding unsaid words. Instead, shaky hands moved up and down stretches of skin. Azriel’s textured flesh caused goosebumps to break out across Eris’ skin, but he could feel the same beneath his own fingers as they rolled across his Shadowsinger’s ribs, down his waist, over his hips. The shallow breaths faded to sighs to eventually peter out into a slow, steady rhythm.
When he came back enough into himself, a quick brush of magic over the two of them removed the drying, tacky mess from their bodies. Eris almost missed it every time he did, the rush of warmth across them causing Azriel to shiver in his arms. He liked being able to take care of him; it was so rare the male allowed it, and Eris cherished it in whatever way he could get away with.
They lay facing each other in silence, the embers completely gone in the hearth now, though the room was hot.
“Nesta knows.”
They were not the words Eris had been expecting, and his heart dropped at the implication. “What?”
“She knows, somehow. When I left the dinner, she saw me preparing to go. Told me to tell you happy Solstice and sent me off with that knowing smirk of hers.”
“Infuriating witch, she is.” He didn’t expect the words to draw such a laugh from Azriel. It wasn’t just a chuckle either, but a full throated one. To be completely honest, Eris did like Nesta Archeron. It didn’t make her knowing any less infuriating.
“Be glad it wasn’t Cass. At least Nesta knows how to keep a secret.”
Eris huffed. “That great bat would be shouting it from the cliffs of Ramiel.” He’d grown more amiable with most of the members of the Night Court as time had passed. It didn’t mean that he couldn’t point out their incredibly obvious flaws. Eris had a feeling Nesta wasn’t the only one who suspected– his brother’s mate took every opportunity to look at him with those knowing eyes.“I’m sure the other Archeron sister knows, too. We might as well make it a party at this point.”
Azriel touched the pads of two fingers against Eris’ lips, pushing in just slightly. “Would you like that, fireling? Tired of keeping me a secret yet?” The words were toying, meant to be a jibe, but they twisted under Eris’ skin in a way that made him feel sick, uneasy.
“You know I am.” The teasing went from Azriel’s eyes then. Even in the dark, Eris could see the sincerity in them, feel the stillness of the body held against his own.
“When the timing is better, right?” Eris hated the shame in Azriel’s voice, the way he could tell it hurt the male in front of him as the words almost pulled inward. He wanted to apologize, wanted to tell him fuck them all, that he’d throw on pants and tell the court right now. Claim him the way he deserved and be claimed in return, not relying on the pulses of magic to glamour and heal the lovely marks away from the eyes of Prythian.
But in the wake of his bloodthirsty ascension, there was still unrest in Autumn, despite the allies and support. Beron’s hateful roots had run rampant and deep through the court, causing an evil that needed to be pulled out slowly, and methodically. He needed to prove his worth to the court, needed to show that he was the rightful High Lord. Now was the time for that, and something as serious as declaring Azriel as his mate would not help matters.
But still…
“Azriel.” The male in his arms shuddered near imperceptibly when he whispered his name.
“No, don’t say it. I know. I understand.” Eris knew he did, but the words still hurt. The whole situation did nothing but hurt them both.
Azriel rose to leave, but before he could, Eris’ hand shot out to grip his wrist, the dappled skin beneath it like a touchstone, a comfort. Home.
“Stay?”
Azriel paused, perched on the edge of the bed, as though taking it in. Deciding if he was worth it. Eris tried to pull back from the hurt, knowing it was him who was causing it all in the end. But Azriel was already returning to the bed, pulling close to Eris as he tugged up the sheets.
“Roll over,” he commanded, and Eris did.
He turned to his side, facing the hearth and blowing a small breath of magic into it so that the fire resumed, burning low. Azriel tucked himself against Eris’ back, a wing coming over top of them to cocoon them in and glowing red between Eris and the firelight.
The male’s skin was warm against his back, lining his body from top to bottom and snaking a hand over his waist. Eris’ eyes were already heavy, lids blinking slowly as the warmth and comfort overtook him. Eris knew that Azriel would be gone when he awoke, but he couldn’t fight the comfort of him across his skin.
“Happy Solstice, Eris.” The words were spoken quietly with a press of lips to his shoulder, Eris’ name on his lips the best Solstice gift he could imagine, even if, for now, they could only have the stolen moments.
“Happy Solstice, Azriel.”
As his consciousness faded away from the room, all was quiet and dark, save for the steady, constant thrumming of the glowing thread of gold between their ribs.