Confused, she patted the sheets beside her to find them still warm, as if he’d only just risen. It was hardly dawn, but she supposed it wasn’t abnormal for him to be up this early.
Her sleepy eyes trailed away from the abandoned sheets to the light coming from beneath the bathroom door, where she could hear the sounds of a bath beginning to fill. She slid out of bed, padding on bare feet to the door.
Cassian was washing his face in the sink when she came in, squinting against the lamp light. He smiled at her in the slightly fogged mirror. “Good morning, my love. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She scrubbed her eyes. “What are you… why are you up?”
“I’m just gonna take a bath before heading into Illyria. They need me to speak to some of the camp lords.”
She grumbled and shuffled closer to wrap her arms around him from behind. “‘Ts cold.”
He ran loving hands up and down her forearms as she rested her head between his wings. “You can go back to bed, my love. I’ll be back later today.”
She let out a low whine and squeezed him tighter.
“Nesta,” he sighed, unwrapping her from him so he could turn around. “Do you want me to tuck you in?”
She deposited her face in his chest. “Mmm, no.”
“Well, I have to take a bath, so you can either get dressed or go get some more sleep. Aren’t you helping with the young Valkaries today?”
She whined louder.
“Alright.” Cassian bent down to pick her up by her thighs and she hooked her feet behind his back.
Burying her face in his neck, she began to grumble again when he made his way back into the bedroom.
“What?” he asked, exasperated.
Her hands lifted to tug at his hair. “Bath,” she mumbled.
“You don’t have to be ready for a few more hours, my love. You can take your bath later.”
“Noooo.”
“You’re just gonna fall asleep in the tub.”
“Nooooooo.”
He sighed once more before turning to set her on the bathroom counter. “Alright, but no funny business or I’m gonna be late.”
Nesta lifted her arms in signal for him to take off her sweater.
He peeled it off of her effortlessly before discarding his own night clothes and ridding her of the rest of hers.
The bath was thankfully big enough for them both as well as a pair of Illyrian wings. Nesta sighed in content when he set her in the water, blissfully hot. She tugged him insistently down in front of her so she could cling to his back once more.
He huffed but resigned himself to the treatment as he went about washing himself. Nesta laid her head on his shoulder, content to watch until his hands lifted to his hair.
She hissed, wriggling away from him. “Nooo. Let me.”
He looked over his shoulder at her to deliver a single brow raise. “You want to wash my hair?”
She nodded, moving to sit on the far bench. “Pretty hair.”
“Has anyone ever told you how articulate you are in the mornings?”
Her half-lidded eyes lifted to an almost-glare.
He laughed softly, but leaned into her arms.
She grabbed the pitcher beside the tub, filling it with water to pour over his head until his hair was as soaked as the rest of him. Then she lathered it with shampoo, her long fingers massaging his scalp.
Cassian let out an animal-like purr as he closed his eyes, his wings going limp inside the water. “Mmm. Fuck. So good.”
“Very articulate,” Nesta mumbled as her hands worked the soap in. Once he had almost fully melted, she rinsed it from his hair before reaching for the conditioner.
He turned onto his stomach as she did so, water sloshing over the sides of the tub. She didn’t mind, though. Not as his brow leaned against her sternum, his arms wrapping around her. He hummed while she worked the conditioner in, nuzzling into her.
She rinsed that too, his hair going silken in her grasp, and grabbed the rag he’d abandoned, filling it with soap. She scrubbed at his shoulders and upper back, down the column of his spine as far as she could reach. When she made to start on his wings, however, he lifted his head to glare at her.
“I said no funny business.”
Nesta pouted but resigned herself to rinsing the rest of the soap from his body. When she was done, he rose and lifted her with him, both of them dripping wet.
“Will you go back to bed now?” Cassian asked as he wrapped her in a fluffy towel and set her on the edge of their bed.
She shook her head, watching him in growing appreciation as he dried himself.
He huffed, grabbing his hair brush from the vanity.
Nesta snatched it from him, arching a brow when he tried to contradict her. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing to the space between her legs on the floor.
He plopped down at her feet and her legs swung carefully over his shoulders and wings to keep him in place. As she brushed through the dripping tangles of his hair, he massaged her calves, occasionally turning his head to kiss her knee.
“Stay still,” she said as she set the brush aside.
His hands paused when he felt her beginning to part his hair. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer and he didn’t push, instead surrendering himself once more to her ministrations.
Ten minutes later, she was done, finally allowing him to rise. He went to the vanity mirror to find four braids neatly worked along the left side of his head, stopping just above his ear. His smile was the one reserved only for her as he turned back. “Thank you, my love.”
She gave him a similar smile in return, if a little more sleepy, and let out a yawn, lifting her arms. He obeyed the unspoken command, moving her further onto the bed so she could lay properly on the pillows. “I’m going to cancel your training today,” Cassian said, working the towel out from under her.
Her eyelids fluttered. “Why?”
He tucked the comforter into her sides with expert care. “Because I want you just like this when I get home.”
She didn’t have the energy to fight, instead snuggled into his pillow. “‘Kay.”
He pressed a kiss to her brow, but she had already drifted off. “I love you.”
Author’s note: Hello, I’m back. My computer broke there for a while, but I was finally able to buy and new one and actually sit my ass in the chair to write. Anyway, this is like wholly unedited because I really wanted to just get it out there and posted because a few people have been asking if this series was going to continue. Enjoy!
For the first time in a long while, Nesta was cold. She stood on the beach wrapped in a flimsy shirt, listening for the sound of footsteps on the sand behind her. There weren’t any for a long while. Just this silence.
She took a moment to breathe and smelled dead fish.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” a voice came from behind her.
She didn’t turn, the wind ruffling her hair. “What do you need me to do?”
“Show me your siren form.”
At that, she looked over her shoulder. Hybern stood a few paces back, a woman to his left and a man holding a camera box. The carriage loomed behind them, horses nickering. Nesta tensed. “My face won’t be in any of the photos.”
“Of course, my dear. They will simply be for record keeping.” He showed his hands, palms up in a placating gesture.
He was lying. She knew photographs were expensive, but they were impossible to fake. No one would waste that kind of money if they didn’t expect profit.
She took a step back towards the sea. “Tell me what you plan to do first.”
“I have done my research on the mythologies. I have scoured the sea for your kind for decades and the people thought I was crazy. Now, I will have my proof.” He stepped towards her and she stepped back again, feeling the sea begin to lap at her heels.
“I will let you photograph me and nothing more.”
“That isn’t what we agreed to.”
He was right. They’d agreed to an experiment.
“I want scale and blood samples.” Hybern waved the man on his right forward. What she had thought held a camera, was actually simply a normal box. The man set it on the ground and lifted a syringe from it.
Nesta swallowed hard.
“What are you waiting for, my dear? You need to shift. We have an agreement.”
“Why did you let me think you had a camera?” It wasn’t even the right lighting for photographs. How could she have missed that?
“I do have a camera. We will take photos later.” Hybern spoke quietly with the other man for a moment before lifting his head. “Do you have gills? Where are they on your body?”
“No.”
“Really? How do you breathe, then?” He was moving closer, the other man coming in from the other side, as if they were trying to trap her against the sea.
“No. I will be breaking our agreement.” She was up to her ankles now in the surf, the sea waiting like a predator behind her.
Hybern laughed. “Oh, my dear. You don’t have a choice. If you will not come willingly, then I have other forms of persuasion.”
“There is nothing you can do to keep me.”
He sighed. “I really didn’t want it to come to this, but we had a deal and now you leave me no choice.” He snapped his fingers and the woman approached with a net. It was one of the large, sturdy ones, made for heavy extreme amounts of fish from the sea.
Nesta moved without thought, her body turning into a dive as her fin replaced her legs.
She screamed as Hybern slammed a knife through the end of her tail, pinning her in place. Her hands scrambled on the rocks while she felt another pair of hands on her, pulling at her golden scales.
“Where’s that damned syringe?” Hybern snapped. “Hurry up. Both of you.”
Nesta shrieked again when the net collapsed on top of her, the holes too small to fit her hands through. Her voice echoed across the beach as she was pulled out of the water. The waves chased her, spindly cold fingers grasping her skin, letting her slide easily over the smooth rocks.
She kicked out her tail, ignoring the spike of blinding pain in search of a way out of the net. Through its metal fibers, she could see the man Hybern had brought with him, carrying that syringe.
As he approached in quick, purposeful steps, she realized that it wasn’t empty. There was already liquid inside–likely a sleeping agent or something to weaken her.
No. If they got her to a separate location, she would be dead.
In her panic, she shifted back and forth between her forms, but found the pain to be worse as a human, drawing her back into her scales. She was crying as the man knelt beside the net and wondered what Cassian would think if he saw her right now.
Pathetic. His mighty siren reduced to a blubbering mess.
His siren.
Hybern’s man grinned a slimy grin. “Thomas sends his regards.”
She had made a vow when Cassian gave her his heart. A vow that had gone unbroken, her lips sealed shut against the song that threatened to pour out.
The man lifted the syringe.
She would break that vow.
The man froze in time as the notes started quietly, barely a whisper, but just loud enough to be heard over the crashing of the waves. His eyes widened, becoming glazed as the syringe slipped from his fingers.
The rocks crunched as Hybern yelled, “Plug your ears!” but it was too late.
“Will you give me your heart?” Nesta asked the man.
“Yes. Gods yes.”
“Take off the net.”
“No!” Hybern was still shouting and Nesta’s gaze snapped to him as the net lifted. His fingers were in his ears like a child refusing to listen, but Nesta could see the struggle. See his eyes roll back, then widen.The woman he’d brought was on her knees, crawling across the beach to Nesta.
“Grab the knife,” Nesta told her.
She scrabbled for where it had fallen, still sticky with seafoam. Hybern lunged at her, but his knees collapsed underneath him as another voice joined the song.
Nesta didn’t turn, not ready to see the other siren ready to drag her back to her watery grave. They would let her do this, at least. Let her deliver her hearts.
“Cut out his heart,” Nesta ordered the girl and in an instant she was on top of the other man, the knife sinking into his chest with animalistic fury. Nesta turned her face away to watch Hybern, who was clutching his head now.
When the girl finished, she returned to Nesta like an obedient dog, her blue eyes wide as saucers.
Nesta lifted her chin between thumb and forefinger. “And your heart? Can I have that one too?”
The girl nodded, knife turning in her hand. It sank with expert precision into the skin above her breast. She stared at Nesta with a pain-free expression, however, as she carved the center of her chest out, her body becoming weaker with every movement until she was dead.
Nesta took the knife from her and shifted into her human form, limping over to Hybern.
“I won’t give it to you,” he hissed into the remaining silence. She hadn’t even noticed the other siren stop singing. “You can’t have it.”
“I don’t want your heart,” Nesta said simply, and drove the knife into his neck.
His eyes widened, a gurgling sound coming from his lips as his hands reached up to scrabble at hers while she twisted the knife over and over again.
It was two passes before his head fell from his shoulders.
Nesta watched it roll across the beach.
Slow clapping came from behind her. She turned, chin raised and palms bloody. She’d kill a siren too. Whatever got in her way.
Amren had perched herself on a boulder, her tail as blunt and short as a sharks. “I thought I would come help. Well done.”
“You—”
She held up a hand, her nails catching the moonlight. “I’m not going to hurt you, dear girl, but we need to move and quickly. Every siren in a twenty-mile radius likely heard your shrieking.”
“What?”
“Why are you still standing there like a fool? Shift and lets go. Plans have moved up. We’re leaving tonight.”
Sorry about the wait and the short chapter, but I hope you enjoy.
Land, when she came to it, was welcome. Nesta climbed from the water on two legs and collapsed onto the sand until the tides rose and threatened to take her again. Then, under the cover of night, she slipped into the nearest village, snatching clothes from some poor woman’s home. She also managed to find some stale bread and sweaty cheese, gnawing on the food as she tried to figure out where she was.
And so her journey began.
Traveling across Asia, then Europe, it was months before she heard word of the Velaris.
“It was rescued by Hybern’s men,” a man said, wiping grease from his hands. “But that was months ago. No one has heard anything since.”
So she went to Hybern.
He was a busy man, living at the tip of Italy. It took her a week of pestering to get an audience.
Nesta didn’t bother to straighten her ragged clothes, to make herself look anything more than a beggar on the streets as she entered the ostentatious office.
“Where are they?” she demanded.
“Where are who?”
“They people of the Velaris. There had to be survivors.”
“Ah. I was wondering when someone would come asking about that.” He scribbled something on a paper before folding it and handing it off to a trembling servant. “Most survived. Casualties were few and far between thanks to my men.”
“What happened?” she breathed, trying not to let her relief show.
“Ship caught fire. Tragic, really. But… you don’t believe that, do you?” His cold eyes finally lifted to hers. “If I tell you where they are, what will you give me, little siren?”
“What do you want?”
He rubbed a hand across his beard, a smirk playing on his lips. “Would you give up that last hope? That last chance of being human? What about your memories? Would you give me those?” He leaned back in his chair. “You know, sirens only remember when they have given up their heart. A heart for a mind. Who has your heart, little siren? I want it.”
She didn’t answer and, carefully, pushed Cassian from her mind.
“I will tell you where your friends are if you will meet me on the cove at midnight tonight. I have an experiment I’d like to perform.”
“Done.” “Brilliant.” His wicked smile gleamed. “The people you are looking for have been imprisoned by the Navy for piracy. They were granted pardon on the condition that they work their sentences building houses for the homeless. Their workshop is three blocks to the East.”
She didn’t thank him as she rushed from the room.
Those three blocks were the furthest she’d traveled. She ran as fast as she could, finding the building instantly amongst the others. It was a large warehouse, nearly falling apart at the seams. From inside, she could hear the sound of hammers and drills.
Many men heaved and sweated the day away, driving cars to the build sites, stacked full of lumber. Nesta found Rhysand first, wiping moisture from his brow as he fed a length of wood through a saw, a black P branded onto his wrists.
He looked up when he felt her gaze, eyes widening as he realized just who stood before him.
Nesta could bring herself to say anything.
Rhys roared and launched himself at her.
She braced herself for the beating, but Feyre was there first, her arms thrown around her sister. Then it was Elain. Nesta thought her legs might have given out, but their embrace held her up.
Distantly, she heard Rhys yelling, but it was muffled, as if she were underwater. Elain pulled back, cradling her face like she was a child. “I can’t believe you’re okay. We didn’t know what to think when you both disappeared.”
“Where’s Cassian?” Azriela asked cooly from behind her. “If he’s dead, tell us now.”
Nesta wiped at her face, detangling herself from her sisters. “He’s alive.”
“Then where is he?” Rhysand snarled.
She swallowed. “I… I think we should all sit down.”
*****
Nesta stared at her hands in the silence.
Rhys was the first to speak up, his voice breaking. “This is all your fault. You did—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Azriel snapped. “We just… we need to find a way to fix this.”
“There’s no way,” Nesta whispered. “There’s no way to reverse the curse.”
“No way that anyone has found.” Elain glanced at her, eyes wide with hope. “According to the books, sirens have been around for hundreds of years. I’m sure… I’m sure we could find something.”
Nesta’s eyes burned, but she swallowed thickly as she said, “We can look.”
Feyre shook her head. “We’re not allowed to leave.”
“What? Why?”
She turned her wrist, revealing the dark P branded there. “It’s the law. It was either this or death row.”
Nesta’s upper lip curled and a bit of the siren surfaced. “I’m going to kill them all. Slowly.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
She turned, finding Amren wiping her dirty hands on a rag as she approached.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re leaving. Today. And we’re going to find him.”
*****
Nesta couldn’t help but gape.
Because before her, balancing between beams thicker than her, was a pirate ship.
“This… you built this?” She looked at them all, caught a hint of pride on Rhysand’s face beneath all the fury.
“At night, when everyone was asleep.” Amren was dwarfed by the ship. “That’s what we’ve been doing all these months.”
“How… how did you hide it?”
“Nobody comes into this part of the warehouse. And those that wandered in, we offered a seat. Everyone wants out of here.”
The fact that such a large section of the building could go empty this long was astonishing in and of itself. “How do we get it into the water?”
“Connections,” Azriel said and that was all.
She didn’t dare to ask if she’d be welcome on the ship. She’d swim beside it if need be. “What did you name her?”
“Dreamer,” Feyre said, reaching up to run her hand across the boards. “We’ll leave tomorrow night if everything goes as planned.”
Nesta nodded even as her heart sank a bit. How long had it already been? Weeks? Months? Could they even convince him to come with them, or had he already… had he…
She pushed the thought away. She’d already crossed continents for him.
The ocean would be nothing.
*****
He stared at the girl beneath him as he ripped her heart from her chest. It was warm in his hand, a slight weight that he’d grown used to.
He left the corpse just above the drop off, strings of blood still drifting up from her body. The animals would get to her if the sea didn’t sweep her to shore first.
He didn’t know her name.
But his… What was it again? He’s heard it once, lifetimes ago, but it had been swallowed by the sea as all things were.
He backed away from the drop off, the endless ocean opening up beneath him.
Notes: Hello! So many of you asked for a second chapter of this prompt that I’ve written a second chapter. A hefty one, at that. 12k, a second part in Nesta’s POV, an insight into her insecurities, her thoughts on Cassian. I loved writing it, even though it took me a long time to get it right. I hope you guys love it, too.
For those of you who haven’t read the first chapter–or who need a refresher–have a lil read of A Golden Opportunity (Part One) here.
And if you enjoy reading it, please do reblog and tag–it makes my day :)
A Golden Opportunity (Part Two) Nesta
Tomas had ruined men for Nesta.
This was a readily known fact. Just as Nesta knew that Darcy had been a proud asshole when he’d first proposed to Elizabeth, she knew that she would never hand over her heart to someone who might learn to master control of its beat.
After all, the first and only time Nesta had trusted someone else with her heart, it had taken a very long time for her to get it back. It had taken months of summoning courage from deep inside of her, packing her things around the bleating of her ribcage, and, finally, learning to stand on her two feet.
I know we talkedabout this but of course the finished piece blew me away altogether. I thought myself marginally prepared, and I was very, very wrong.
The level of connection, Cassian’s attentiveness and cataloguing of all things Nesta. The way his insistence on consent was so attractive.
And while you proved yet again the wordsmith you are a hundred times over (there were so many things where I thought— I want to be her when I grow up), I think what did me in the most was:
A/N: This Nessian one-shot wouldn’t leave me alone and effectively blocked my progress on any of my other WIPs, so I gave in and followed the inspiration.
This is set in canon, during the war but prior to the final battle with Hybern. It’s full of Nessian longing/ pining, so enjoy
——————————————————————————
Her bones ached.
The night’s cool air added to the discomfort, another meager annoyance that had the potential to break them all.
The cries of battle had been fierce and electrifying. Too quickly they had given way to cries of pain; anguish both physical and emotional. Nesta wondered how many Illyrian soldiers had lost family during the day’s fight; biological or found. She hadn’t allowed herself much time to dwell on it. Injuries were plentiful in various degrees of severity, and she was running ragged already trying to keep up.
A/N: This Nessian one-shot wouldn’t leave me alone and effectively blocked my progress on any of my other WIPs, so I gave in and followed the inspiration.
This is set in canon, during the war but prior to the final battle with Hybern. It’s full of Nessian longing/ pining, so enjoy
——————————————————————————
Her bones ached.
The night’s cool air added to the discomfort, another meager annoyance that had the potential to break them all.
The cries of battle had been fierce and electrifying. Too quickly they had given way to cries of pain; anguish both physical and emotional. Nesta wondered how many Illyrian soldiers had lost family during the day’s fight; biological or found. She hadn’t allowed herself much time to dwell on it. Injuries were plentiful in various degrees of severity, and she was running ragged already trying to keep up.
Chapter 60 is definitely going to be a long chapter but everything for this chapter feel into place for me last week so I can’t wait to finish it and see what everyone thinks! Especially since there’s a POV in there that people who follow me won’t expect me to do. So that’ll definitely be fun to see everyone’s reactions!
Nesta breathed, eyes flickering to the ceiling as Cassian’s tongue ran over her causing her to moan. Her legs trembling at the orgasm racking through her. He hadn’t sunk into her yet, hadn’t pleasured himself by finding an oasis inside of her. He really did want to take his time.
His eyes flickered up to her, the hazel in his eyes burning brightly at the sight of her pleasure. She breathed out, his fingernails digging into the tender flesh of her thighs.
“Cassian.” She cried out, her fingers finding his.
“Come, Sweetheart.” He commanded as it rocked through her, letting him taste the force of it as Cassian kissed her inner thigh sitting up. His eyes still full of lust, still full of want for her.
“I want you. So bad.” Cassian breathed. His mouth crashing to hers, letting her taste herself.
“Then take me, Cassian.” She commanded, her lips finding his again, wanting nothing more than him inside of her before her phone went off startling both.
Fear slammed into her as Eris’s name flashed over the screen, Cassian’s eyes flickering towards it, before looking back at her.
“A friend of yours?” He asked as Nesta’s heart hammered in her chest.
“Cassian-I can explain. Just let me take this first.”
He pulled away from her, nodding as Nesta grabbed her phone racing to his bathroom and answering the call.
“What do you want?” She asked as Eris’s cool voice flowed through the phone.
“Wondering where my beautiful fiancé is or are you with that bastard you’re fucking?”
“That’s none of your business.” Nesta snapped as Eris sighed,
“Don’t forget Nesta, you’re my little fiancé, he may be fucking you, but I’m the one who your family gave you to.”
“I don’t belong to you.” She gritted as Eris chuckled.
“Keep telling yourself that.” He retorted, hanging up the phone as Nesta threw her phone to the ground, shattering the screen of her phone.
Nesta sighed pressing her forehead to the cold mirror, not sure what she would say to Cassian. What she could say as she took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t avoid him forever before she headed out the bathroom, her eyes flickering to where Cassian sat naked on the couch, waiting for her.
“I think we need to talk.” She started sitting on the couch opposite of him as his eyes roamed over her.
“Who’s Eris?” He asked, leaning back, exposing himself to her.
Nesta took a deep breath, waiting for her whole world to shatter, waiting for Cassian to hate her when she told him the truth.
She sat down on his loveseat, glancing over at him as his gaze on her turned intense. She ran her hand over her hair, finally speaking,
“Eris is my fiancé.” She confessed as Cassian’s eyes widened slightly.
“Your…fiancé? You’re engaged?” Cassian asked her, swearing that his words made her heart shatter.
She deserved this. Knew that she should have never gotten in this deep with him if she knew that it would inevitably end in their destruction. She needed to get everything out, even if this was the end for them.
“Yes. I’m engaged. And Eris is my fiancé. We’ve been engaged for a few months.”
“And you love him?” Cassian asked, his hazel eyes boring into hers.
“No…. I don’t love him.” Nesta answered him, realizing that it was true. She had never loved Eris. The closest thing she had felt for Eris was hatred.
“Then why marry him in the first place?” Cassian inquired. A fair question.
“Because my life is not that simple.” Nesta answered as she took in a deep breath, “My parents arranged the marriage. I had no say in it.”
Cassian walked over to her, tilting her face up so that her eyes met his, his thumb stroking her chin.
“Why?”
“Because we need this marriage with Eris to help out my family.” She confessed as Cassian sucked in a breath, kneeling before her. Taking her hands in his.
“Your family-“
“Is up to our eyeballs in debt, and mom think marrying into the Vanserra family will help our chances.”
“Why you?” He asked as Nesta searched his face, not a hint of anger on it.
“Because I have disgraced our family in the past. My mother calls it my contribution to this family.” Nesta confided in him.
“That’s bullshit.” Cassian breathed, squeezing her hands tighter.
“That’s reality.” She told him as his gaze flickered to her once more.
“Why then?” He asked suddenly.
“Why what?”
“Why did you sleep with me knowing it could risk your engagement?”
Nesta took a deep breath in knowing honesty was her only way through this.
“Because Eris had been cheating on me. Not with just one woman, but multiple, and I-I was so miserable. All he saw me was was a vessel. A woman he could control in any way he liked. I wanted to not be Nesta Archeron for the night. And I guess when I met you- “She breathed, “When I met you, you made me feel good for the first time in a long time, like sleeping with you was right and not-“
“Dirty or wrong?” He asked, she nodded.
“Does he know? About us?”
She nodded lowering her head down.
“He said he could care less about a low life bastard fucking me,” She gave a sharp laugh, it tasting bitter in her throat. “He won’t care as long as you don’t impregnate me and cause problem for his reputation.”
Cassian’s brows flew up in question at that last statement as Nesta’s cheeks flushed at what she had said,
“Not that you getting me pregnant would ever happen since we’re always safe, but you get my point.”
Cassian’s eyes scanned the length of her body, his head tilting to the side. Heat flooded his gaze.
“So, he doesn’t mind that we’re doing this?” He asked, not the question Nesta had expected out of his mouth next.
“No.” Nesta answered simply. Her heart fluttering in answer as he rose off the couch he had been sitting on and wandered over to her.
She tilted her head up, her long hair spilling over her shoulder like a fountain of golden brown. His thumb stroked her cheek, making her look up at him.
“Then let’s keep doing it.” He whispered, his mouth coming down to hers.
She tasted his kiss, the feel of his mouth more urgent than it had ever been before. He laid her body on the couch, climbing on top of her as his lips went to her neck, trailing it with his kisses.
She tipped her neck up to him, exposing her throat, giving herself completely over to him. To that feeling.
His hands squeezed her hips with his hands making her gasp at the feel of it. She needed him. Needed him more than she needed anyone else.
“Cassian.” She breathed.
“Yes, Nesta.” He hummed, nibbling on her earlobe.
“Cassian, I want-“
“Me?” He inquired as Nesta’s gaze flickered to him. Her body yearning for him.
“Yes.” She gasped out, his eyes flickering to his bed as a mischievous smile played on his lips.
“Then get on the bed, Nesta, and wait for me there.”
He instructed as Nesta’s chest heaved. She had seen this side to Cassian before, just never this intense.
Nesta took in a deep breath, getting off the couch and striding off his bed sitting on it, sinking down onto his pillows, taking in another breath as her chest rose and fell looking at him as he shook his head.
“I don’t want you there.” Cassian breathed as Nesta glanced at him puzzled.
“Where do you want me?” She asked, Cassian’s gaze wandering towards the end of the bed.
“I want you on your back and bent over my bed. “Cassian told her, his hand gliding towards his cock as she crawled to the edge of the bed, lying on her back, and bending over it, not sure what exactly they were doing and why he wanted her in this position.
“Perfect. Just the way I want you.” Cassian breathed out, his hand moving up and down his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze before walking towards his mirror, grabbing it, and placing before her, she glanced at him.
“What is that for?” She inquired as Cassian gave her a smoldering glance that was so heated that she thought she would burn underneath it.
He climbed on the bed, spreading her legs so he could nestle himself in between them, his body brushing up against hers as he leaned in to whisper.
“I want you to watch what I do to you.” Cassian rasped, placing her legs over his shoulders as he dipped his head towards her center once more, licking her where she hungered for him the most.
She moaned watching her reaction in the mirror as Cassian licked, kissed, and tasted her, making her legs tremble before he asked,
“Does his tongue make you feel like this?”
She nearly paused at the question before he dipped his tongue into her core, fucking her with his tongue as she moaned, taking his time with her, coaxing her release out until she answered,
“No.” She moaned out. “Only your tongue has made me feel like this.”
His fingers slid inside her, stretching her out as she shut her eyes making him halt in his motion. She glanced at him.
“Keep your eyes on yourself, sweetheart. I want you to see for yourself how much pleasure I bring you compared to him.”
Nesta nodded, tilting her head back as Cassian began pumping his fingers inside her once more.
“How many fingers does he use, Nes?” He asked, coaxing something out of her that she didn’t think was possible.
“One. Two if I’m lucky.” She answered as Cassian drew his finger back, before adding two more in. Stretching her to the sweetest edge of pain.
She cried out in pleasure as he plunged them in. Cassian chuckling.
“You’re taking three well, Nes. I wonder how well you can take my whole hand.”
She breathed, no one had ever even attempted it.
She nodded feeling as Cassian added four fingers, pumping into her, and stretching her out before adding all his fingers. She cried out riding his hand. Wanting nothing more than for every part of him to claim every part of her.
“Gods Nes, You’re beautiful.” Cassian breathed, slamming his lips down to hers, savoring her taste.
She moaned in his mouth, pulling him closer to her, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck her., To taste her and claim her as his own.
“Cassian.” She breathed out, pressing her forehead to his.
“Tell me.” He instructed, catching her off guard. Plunging his fingers in once more.
“Tell you what?” She asked, trying hard to concentrate on him.
“Tell me that you’re mine.” Cassian gasped out.
Her lips trembled, her legs shaking as she neared her edge. Her nails digging down the length of his chest leaving scratch marks.
“I’m yours.” She cried out. “And you’re mine.”
He growled, hoisting her legs up on his shoulder, pulling his fingers out of her center, and guiding his cock through her wetness as his eyes bored into hers, pushing his cock inside of hers, bottoming out inside of her as she let out a moan of pure pleasure.
“Look at you.” Cassian grunted, pulling out nearly to his tip, before thrusting back into her.
She cried out, head tilting to where she could see herself in the mirror.
“Look at the sight of you when I’m inside of you. Do you look like that when he’s inside of you?”
She glanced at herself. At him moving inside of her, their hips joining together as if they were one. As if he had been specially made for her and she for him.
“No.” She gasped out, quickening his pace.
“Does he touch you the way that I touch you?” He asked placing his hand on her breast.
“No.” She breathed, his mouth pressing to her neck. Leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.
She kept her eyes on the mirror, on herself. God, she loved the sight of herself when he was inside of her.
“Get on your knees.” He growled out. “I want to see your face as I take you deeper.”
She glanced at him as he pulled himself out of her before she got on her knees, sinking down further, and lifting her hips for him to take her. To plunge himself deep inside of her until the only thing she could feel was his massive cock.
He lined himself up with her, slipping his cock inside of her, so deep that she swore she nearly saw stars already.
She sobbed as he leaned into her, pressing his chest firmly to her back and asked,
“How hard do you want it, Nes?” He rasped out, biting on her neck softly. Gods, she wanted him to fuck her until she forgot who she was. Forgot all the problems that were in her world. She gasped out,
“As hard as you want it, sweetheart.”
He growled, slamming into her to the hilt as Nesta cried out at the sheer size of him. He filled her, making her feel so full, as his hand went to her hair as his other wrapped around her throat, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her legs tremble and her core clench around him.
“That’s it, Sweetheart. You feel so good on my cock.” Cassian grunted out, “Like you were personally made to take my cock for the rest of your life.”
A shiver ran down Nesta’s spine at his words. At how much she wanted that to be true. His balls slammed up against her, trying to coax her orgasm out of her, but he wouldn’t get it so soon. Not until she had her feel of him.
“I want to see myself from your point of view.” She growled out making him halt. The hand in her hair easing as Cassian pulled out of her.
She turned towards him, heat in her gaze at the man before her.
“Get on your back.” She commanded, a mischievous smile playing over her lips. His eyes roaming over her bare body.
“Ask nicely and maybe I will.” Cassian retorted.
Nesta glared down up at him, wanting nothing more than for him to lie on his back so she could show him how much he meant to her. How much more pleasure he brought her compared to Eris, but if he was going to be like that-
She let her lose hair tumble over her shoulder, widening herself further for him as she caressed herself. Fully exposing herself to him. She so desperately wanted him inside of her, but if he was going to act like that, this would be her own personal form of punishment.
She circled her clitoris, plunging a finger inside of herself as she breathed,
“This could be you between my legs, but you’re playing hard to get.”
Cassian’s hungry eyes watched her as she plunged her fingers deeper into herself, appearing as if he were barely restraining herself, but held himself together, reaching his hand out to take her hand that was inside of her.
He pulled her fingers from herself, bringing her hand to where his mouth was as he licked her fingers, tasting each and every one.
She watched, captivated at his boldness, as his heated gaze flickered to her eyes, keeping contact with her. Before pulling her last finger out of his mouth and saying,
“All you have to do is say please, sweetheart.”
Her breath hitched, her center soaking wet and begging her to just say the words, to give him over the control for a split second.
“One way or another I’m going to get that release out of you, Nes. It’s your choice whether or not you want to reach release in your own way.”
She gulped, knowing that if she didn’t say please, he would spread her legs once more. And coax it out of her with his fingers, lips, and tongue. His talented tongue.
If she didn’t say please, she wouldn’t feel the rush of his cock spurting inside of her, covering his legs with his release. And she couldn’t stand that thought.
Couldn’t stand the thought of going home to Eris without smelling like another man. A better man. One that actually satisfied her needs. She needed him as much as she needed air to breath. So she stabbed down her pride and whispered,
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please Cassian, let me fuck you.”
He gave her a victorious, ruthful smile as he laid on his back to where she would be able to see herself in the mirror, stroking his cock so it was at full attention again and purred,
“Then by all means Nes. Take what you want.”
She breathed out, straddling his hips and grasping on to his enormous cock before aligning him at her entrance, sinking down upon his cock and letting out a cry of relief at the feel of him before he grasped her hips and looked up at her as if she were his goddess and he was preparing to sing her a prayer as she swayed her hips, taking his cock deeper inside herself as they both moaned at the feel of it.
She leaned down, kissing his neck in short, hungry kisses. Her nipples hardening in arousal at the sight of him barely holding on to his own release. Wanting to drawl it out so they could arrive at that edge together.
He grasped onto her hips, his nails digging in hard, hard enough that Eris would for sure see the indents of them when she got home and thrusted up into her just as she had took him deeper.
She gasped at that as they kept pace with each other. Trying to bring each other closer to the edge. She was almost there. Almost ready to go into pure ecstasy when Cassian growled out.
“Stay with me tonight.”
She panted, her mind ebbing, on the verge of a debt unknown to her as he slowed his pace right when she was at the cusp of falling away with him. She cried out as he moved in slow punishing thrust, drawling this out so she would give her answer.
“Stay with me instead of going home to him. We can do this all night if you just stay.”
Her lips parted in silent plea. Her body trembling, begging her for that release they both so desperately wanted. She rode him. Rode that high as she answered,
“Yes.”
He thrusted up in her then, his release shooting up into her, as her own release shuddered around him gripping his cock until his cum ran down her thighs and he own release coated him.
She collapsed on top of him. Both their bodies sweaty and spent as his hand roamed in her hair, running through it with her fingers.
His other hand drifting down between her legs to where both their releases laid between her thighs, slipping his fingers inward and pushing his release back inside of her. Like he wanted as much of his essence inside of her as possible. The thought of it making her tighten in response.
He hovered above her, claiming her with his kiss as he looked down upon her, smiling.
“Remember this the next time he tries to fuck you sweetheart. Remember how you called yourself mine.” He reminded her as he pulled away from her and went into his bathroom leaving her laying in his bed with her center throbbing in response reminding her exactly who she belonged to.
“So, how are things going with that girl you’re fucking?“ Azriel asked, sinking his ball into the corner pocket as Cassian grimaced at the fact that he was winning yet again.
Cassian’s grin widened at the thought of Nesta as Cassian made his move, missing the ball he was aiming for, irritation flashed through her.
"I guess your balls are the only ones that are seeing any action.” Azriel teased, his eyes flickering at how badly Cassian was losing.
“At least I’m constantly getting laid.” He shot back as Azriel grinned, hitting another ball into the corner pocket.
“Oh Cassian. Everyone knows the reason I’m not getting laid right now is because I’m not trying to.”
“Whatever. Let’s just finish the game.” Cassian growled, stepping up to make his next move before two women approached them. Cassian’s gaze flickered over to them. They weren’t bad looking, but they also were no Nesta Archeron. Not that Cassian was incapable of fucking one of them, but would they be nearly as enjoyable?
“Hello ladies, what can we do for you?” Azriel asked, his grin flashing to Cassian. He swore one of their legs shook at the flash of Azriel’s dazzling smile.
We were wondering if we could buy you two a drink?“ The bolder one asked, her dark eyes roaming over Azriel’s body in a bold gesture.
"I could go for a drink. What about you, Cas?” Azriel asked as Cassian thought about it.
Nesta wouldn’t be around tonight-She would be at her sister’s place dealing with the likes of Rhysand-but if he accepted this invitation-
He stared at the other woman, the one who was probably interested in him, her body seeming nice enough, but also seeming like she wouldn’t be into the same bedroom activities he was. Not the usual girl Cassian went for, but he also couldn’t let only Nesta warm his bed. He wasn’t the only one warming hers. Not with that fiancé of hers. Not when the only person Cassian had been dreaming about was Nesta.
“I’m in.” Cassian grinned as the woman smiled. It would definitely be an interesting night.
His lips found hers in a heated kiss, his hands traveling downward to her shirt wanting nothing more than to get rid of it. To get it off of her, and get this over with.
Cassian had learned at the bar that her name was Heather. She had seemed nice enough, and probably in another life, Cassian may have even like her, but this, why he had brought her home to his apartment, had nothing to do with wanting her. If anything he wanted her out of his life when the night was over.
Heather pulled away, breathless as Cassian leaned over pressing the button to the elevator to close it thanking God that they were the only two in the elevator.
She smiled, crossing her legs, as a smile pulled at her lips in anticipation. Cassian would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it too.
The elevator doors opened as they stepped out, Cassian taking his keys out of his pocket, ready to head down the hallway to get to his apartment as Cassian at what or rather who he saw there.
Nesta sat by his door, a bottle of wine in her hand as her gaze flickered to him before it landed on Heather. A fierce blush settling on her cheeks as she put two and two together making her stand so quickly that she almost tipped over at the movement. Shit.
“Who’s that?” Heather asked, crossing her arms over her chest. A look of disdain on her face.
“Someone who’s important to me.” Cassian answered giving her his own look of disdain. “Do you mind giving us some privacy?”
Heather scoffed, shooting a look at Nesta before saying,
“Whatever, you weren’t that hot anyway.” Heather huffed returning down the hallway, leaving him and Nesta alone.
“Nesta-” Cassian started.
“I’m sorry if I ruined your-whatever that was. I just-I didn’t know where to go.” Nesta said to Cassian as he took her in.
She wore the same outfit he had dropped her off in, goosebumps rose on her skin from the cold, her arms folding over her chest. Her eyes searched him, wondering if he would say anything.
“To be honest, you just saved me from what could have been the worst sex of my life, so I owe you one.”
Nesta scoffed adjusting her purse, and said,
“Please, she looked ten seconds from giving you the night of your life.”
“I doubt that.” Cassian stated grasping his keys and heading towards the door.
“And why is that?” She asked as he unlocked the door, throwing it open.
“Because she’s not you.” He replied, making her stand there for a few short seconds in awe.
“Are you going to stand there? Or are you going to come inside with that wine and have some fun with me?”
Her smile crept over her lips in satisfaction as she breezed past him, bottle in hand, as he followed her inside ready to keep all sorts of promises he made her that morning.
Nesta fiddled with the hem of her skirt, sitting on the couch as Cassian grasped the champagne glasses from the cabinet having a feeling that they would need the full bottle to get through the night.
She opened the bottle, filling both their glasses to the rim as he grasped the bottle, wanting nothing more than for her to look at him.
“What happened?” He asked as she glanced at him.
“What makes you think something happened?” She asked taking her glass and sipping on it.
“Because you showed up at my apartment saying you had no where to go.”
“What makes you think I just didn’t say that to get rid of your date?”
A smile crept over his face as he set down his champagne glass, glancing at her with heated eyes.
“Then I would say you’ve been very bad and I may need to punish you for it.”
Her breath hitched as he got off the couch, glancing over her like she was his to devour.
“Take off your underwear and spread those pretty legs of yours.”
She gazed upon him for so long he half expected her to tell him to fuck off, but her hands went to the hem of her dress, pushing it up to reveal the lacy fabric that was in between him and what he wanted, before she glanced up at him.
“If you want my panties off, why don’t you do it yourself?” She challenged.
Cassian tilted his head, drinking her in, a wicked smile touching his lips before grasping her ankles and tugging her gently to him, giving him a surprised yelp.
“If I have to take your panties, Nesta, you won’t have them when you leave tonight.”
Her breath hitched at that statement, but she held her resolve, flashing her teeth at him, daring him to take what he wanted.
A wicked chuckle fell from his lips as he flipped her over so she was belly first on the couch. Her marvelous ass exposed to him as he grasped those Gods damned underwear of hers and yanked them down so hard that he heard a rip from them within seconds.
Nesta grasped as Cassian rubbed his palm on her bare ass, smacking it as a surprise yelp fell from Nesta’s lips. He leaned against her, lips pressed to the shell of her ear.
“That’s one.” He whispered as Nesta breathed in and out. One word. One word of discomfort from those lips of hers and he would stop.
“One what?” She asked.
“One of three spankings I’m going to give you.” He smiled making her shiver in anticipation, baring herself to him.
He grinned, smacking her ass again.
“That was for the date.” Cassian told her as she breathed in. “Tell me why you didn’t hide when you saw us.”
“Because I wanted her to know.” Nesta breathed.
“Know what?”
“Know that you’re mine.” Nesta told her. A smile crawling over his face.
“Am I?” Cassian asked.
“What was the first one for?” She asked deflecting the question.
Cassian grinned, hovering over her body, getting closer to her ear.
“For not following directions.” He answered. “Now lift your ass up for me, Nes.”
She lifted herself up more as he smacked her ass, pressing himself closer to her, aligning her body with his so she could feel the warmth of his body and what she was doing to him underneath his clothes.
“What was that one for?” She asked, her voice low.
“For leaving my bed this morning when you were supposed to be warming it.”
Nesta loosened a breath as she answered,
“I can help warm your bed now.” She offered as he growled, putting his arms under her, lifting her up as he carried her to his bed, tossing her onto it.
She looked up at him with awaiting eyes as he pulled his bedside drawer open, pulling out a specific item that he had picked up that morning after he had dropped her off, her eyes widening at the sight of it.
“Is that a-”
Cassian nodded, turning on the vibrator, as her blue-gray eyes flickered to it.
“Brand new and just for you.”
Nesta let out a deep breath as Cassian climbed onto the bed, spreading her legs wide so she was on full display for him. Beautiful. And begging for a taste.
He pressed the vibrator to her clit causing her to gasp, throwing her head back.
“Does that feel good, Sweetheart?” He asked, turning it up higher. “Or would you rather I put it inside of you?”
She glanced up at him, spreading herself wider for him.
“I want-I want it inside of me.” She pleaded.
Cassian shivered at the heat in her voice as he ran the vibrator through her slick folds until he found her entrance slipping it inside of her, turning it higher as she gasped at the feeling of it.
“Cassian.” She cried out as he laid himself on top of her, pressing kisses to the side of her neck. licking the flesh there.
“I can’t wait to taste you.” He breathed, his lips traveling downward, pressing kisses to her chest as he moved the vibrator in and out of her, knowing that it would not feel the same as him, but loving the thought of getting her off in other ways.
Pants came from her lips as Cassian’s mouth went to her left breast. He sucked on her, feeling her pleasure in his mouth as his nails dug into her tender flesh keeping her there.
She bucked against him, her other hand going to her other breast as Cassian smiled.
A moan so loud Cassian almost thought it was a sob, rang through Nesta as he cranked the vibrator up higher almost to the highest setting it could go.
“Let’s see how much pleasure you could truly handle, Nes.” He breathed, spreading her legs further and nestling between them. His hazel eyes landing on her.
Nesta breathed trying to collect herself as Cassian pushed the toy in as far as it would go, feeling it bottom out inside of her.
His head lowered, his gaze settling upon her in pure, animalistic hunger as he took his first taste of her, causing her to cry out at the sensation.
“You taste like heaven, but I feel like it would probably taste better from the source.” Cassian growled, pulling the vibrator out of her, causing her to gasp at the loss as Cassian tasted her, moving his tongue in and out of her as his thumb circled her clit, not wanting her to lose any sensation.
Nesta’s hands plunged into his hair, pushing his tongue in deeper, curling it inside of her.
“Cassian-” She gasped out as he palmed her breast with his other hand, lifting his head to meet her eyes.
“I wanted to make up for the time we lost this morning. I’ve been ravenous for you all day.”
Nesta tilted her head back at that, her hips thrusting up, riding his face, keeping pace with his tongue.
“Then eat up.”
Cassian chuckled, her breaths getting heavy, her hands clutching his hair so hard that his scalp was becoming tender.
“Did you want to come, Nes?” He asked.
“Yes.” She breathed.
He smiled, plunging the vibrator back in her, hitting the highest setting as her eyes rolled back in her head, the cries ringing from her throat.
“I’m going to fuck you so so hard, you won’t remember any other girl before me.” She promised as he felt her orgasm pulse through her. He tasted it. Tasted her on his tongue and nothing, nothing had ever tasted as better as this.
She writhed beneath his mouth, his erection pressing so painfully hard against his pants, begging him to free it from the confides of his pants before his hands went to the buttons of his jeans, lifting himself up off the bed, and unzipping them, gazing down at her.
Nesta sat up, gazing at him with hunger in her eyes. He pressed his thumb to her lips, tracing them as she kept her gaze pinned on him.
“Are you ready to claim what’s yours Nesta?” He asked, climbing on the bed. laying down as she straddled him, her hands roaming up his chest as she breathed,
Notes: Hello! So many of you asked for a second chapter of this prompt that I’ve written a second chapter. A hefty one, at that. 12k, a second part in Nesta’s POV, an insight into her insecurities, her thoughts on Cassian. I loved writing it, even though it took me a long time to get it right. I hope you guys love it, too.
For those of you who haven’t read the first chapter–or who need a refresher–have a lil read of A Golden Opportunity (Part One) here.
And if you enjoy reading it, please do reblog and tag–it makes my day :)
A Golden Opportunity (Part Two) Nesta
Tomas had ruined men for Nesta.
This was a readily known fact. Just as Nesta knew that Darcy had been a proud asshole when he’d first proposed to Elizabeth, she knew that she would never hand over her heart to someone who might learn to master control of its beat.
After all, the first and only time Nesta had trusted someone else with her heart, it had taken a very long time for her to get it back. It had taken months of summoning courage from deep inside of her, packing her things around the bleating of her ribcage, and, finally, learning to stand on her two feet.
I know we talkedabout this but of course the finished piece blew me away altogether. I thought myself marginally prepared, and I was very, very wrong.
The level of connection, Cassian’s attentiveness and cataloguing of all things Nesta. The way his insistence on consent was so attractive.
And while you proved yet again the wordsmith you are a hundred times over (there were so many things where I thought— I want to be her when I grow up), I think what did me in the most was:
“Real.”
I mean… let’s not pretend that you aren’t a major reason why this second chapter happened. You were my brainstorm buddy and you helped me work through THAT scene on the couch and I’ll be forever thankful.
But… we did not brainstorm that “real” dialogue together and I’m thrilled it sufficiently undid you in the way it did me when my brain threw it out at 5am.
Thank you, thank you for your validation Nessian queen
Notes: Hello! So many of you asked for a second chapter of this prompt that I’ve written a second chapter. A hefty one, at that. 12k, a second part in Nesta’s POV, an insight into her insecurities, her thoughts on Cassian. I loved writing it, even though it took me a long time to get it right. I hope you guys love it, too.
For those of you who haven’t read the first chapter–or who need a refresher–have a lil read of A Golden Opportunity (Part One) here.
And if you enjoy reading it, please do reblog and tag–it makes my day :)
A Golden Opportunity (Part Two) Nesta
Tomas had ruined men for Nesta.
This was a readily known fact. Just as Nesta knew that Darcy had been a proud asshole when he’d first proposed to Elizabeth, she knew that she would never hand over her heart to someone who might learn to master control of its beat.
After all, the first and only time Nesta had trusted someone else with her heart, it had taken a very long time for her to get it back. It had taken months of summoning courage from deep inside of her, packing her things around the bleating of her ribcage, and, finally, learning to stand on her two feet.
“Tomas had ruined men for Nesta.” — I see we’re starting with true trash *grabs shotgun*
“This was a readily known fact. Just as Nesta knew that Darcy had been a proud asshole when he’d first proposed to Elizabeth, she knew that she would never hand over her heart to someone who might learn to master control of its beat.” — The reference to P&P? Loved it. The angsty situation? Gave me allergies
“So, the moment that Nesta had picked up her life from the ashes of her old one, she had vowed that she’d never engage in a relationship with a male again.” — THIS IS HURTING I THOUGHT WE WERE GETTING CUTE NESSIAN?!
“Because Cassian was neither deterred by Nesta’s barbed disposition or her easy dismissal of him. Thanks to Tomas and a difficult upbringing, Nesta had formed the defence mechanism of feeling nothing. When things got hard, she locked away her emotions in a fortress of icy haughtiness and contempt, until, quite frankly, she forgot what it was like to feel at all.” — Stop this pain please stop this pain
“That’s how it had been when Nesta first met Cassian. The night prior had been the first time that Tomas had laid a hand on her. Nesta had not processed, she had not taken pause to consider how or what it truly meant that her boyfriend had physically abused her. She had only picked herself up off the floor and carried on, unfeeling at the same time that every intake of breath was agony.” — HOW DARE HE HOW FUCKING DARE HE
“But then a male had touched Gwyn without her consent, and the embers of Nesta’s anger erupted into an inferno.
All Nesta had seen was red, and in that moment, she’d realised that she had actually been a viper waiting to strike. She harboured so much rage with the world—with herself—for turning a blind eye to her boyfriend’s manipulation, that it blinded the voice that told her not to make a scene.
Because whilst Nesta might have allowed herself to be gaslighted by her boyfriend for years, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let anything happen to Gwyn.” — YES NESTA GO OFF QUEEN KILL THAT ASSHOLE AND TAKE THIS AS THE OPENING TO ALSO STAND UP TO TOMAS
“The deep bruises on her upper arms still ached from where Tomas had grabbed her and thrown her across the room, but Nesta had raged through it, had raised that fatal finger until the male before Gwyn had scarpered into the dancing bodies gyrating in the living room.” — ISTG TOMAS BETTER BE LYING DEAD IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE OR AM I GONNA KILL HIM
“Finally, Nesta had deigned to look up at thefriend Feyre had brought over and tried her best not to blink. Even now, Nesta could remember how impossibly broad Cassian’s chest had been. Cassian had been wearing a black t-shirt which clung to every chiselled inch of his torso and sizeable bare arms—which were tan where they were not whorled with black ink. Shadow stubbled his chiselled jaw and what should have been a straight nose was slightly crooked at the base, as if it had been broken more than once. A scar slanted through the thick, dark eyebrow he had cocked at her. And then his eyes…
They were hazel but seemed to glow gold in the low lighting—a direct contrast to Cassian’s ebony hair which seemed to gobble up the glow from the overhead lamp—half of which was pulled back into a top knot.” — Daddy is here and he’s looking fine as always
“So, Nesta had done what any abuse victim would do: she’d left, her terror a living, desperate flutter in her throat. Because if Tomas had even seen her talking to someone who looked like that, her life wouldn’t have been worth living.” — GOD I WANNA KILL TOMAS THAT GARBAGE PIECE OF SHIT
“Yet, it turned out that Cassian was to become a fixture in Nesta’s life whether she liked it or not. Feyre married Rhys and, given that Cassian was Rhys’s brother, Nesta could do little to avoid him at certain events. But as she got to know him, Nesta realised that beyond the outrageous romantic advances and fiery banter, there was something deeperto him. Another agenda that Nesta was too wounded to comprehend.” — the way Cassian slowly made his way into Nesta’s heart, first as a friend, trying to make her feel comfortable around him
“Afterwards, as Nesta emerged from the wreckage with her hands clutched tightly in her friends, she understood that she had been broken, shattered from a great height, the fragments of herself splintered and scattered.
It would be up to her to search for those pieces and put herself back together. But as the years passed, Nesta realised that the pieces never fit quite right.
As a consequence, she became someone who was fractured and new, her old self discarded, this different self lost and unsure as she navigated a terrifying world.” — this is written so beautifully yet it hurts so much god I love it
“And Cassian… Nesta felt like he understood that about her. As if he had dissected her with that razor-sharp focus of his and had not batted an eyelid that she was changed—and changing—in an endless, weary cycle with what seemed to be no direction.
Nesta could step into a room and Cassian somehow just knew what she needed. He’d challenge her when she was unfeeling, spark reactions out of her that nobody else could seemingly reach. Nesta learnt that he was kind beyond measure. That he would fight tooth and nail for those he cared about. That beneath the carefree, light-hearted exterior was a male who truly looked.” — THEY KNOW EACH OTHER INTRINSICALLY AND HE SEES HER AND SHE SEES HIM DYING
“It took Nesta a very long time to admit to herself that she also lived in fear of the day that Cassian might stop asking.” —HE WOULD NEVER HE WOULD BE IN HIS DEATH BED ASKING YOU OUT
“Why won’t you just give up?” Nesta had frowned one evening. It had been Gwyn’s birthday and Cassian had only waited half an hour before he’d pressed a drink into her hand, brushed a kiss against her cheek, and murmured into her ear, “A drink for a date?” — PLEASE HE IS SO SMOOTH AND TENDER MY HEART AJDJDJ
“Because I think deep down you want to say yes,” he’d answered. His mouth had remained at her ear and Nesta had wanted to keep him there more than anything, but he had pulled back so he could snare her gaze with hazel eyes that were dark in the dim lighting of the bar. “Am I wrong?” — no daddy. You ain’t wrong
“Tell me you said yes,” Emerie blurted out. She’d interrupted Nesta the moment she’d finished explaining that she’d just bumped into Cassian in the bookshop, where he’d dared to ask her on yet another date. “For the love of the Cauldron, please tell me that you have finally caved, Nesta.”
“You did!” Gwyn breathed as she scanned Nesta’s spooked expression. Her teal eyes grew so round they almost seemed to glow. “You finally said yes.” — Emerie and Gwyn, the biggest Nessian stans ever
“He’s a lovable puppy,” Emerie agreed bluntly, but her expression was soft. Just like Gwyn, she knew what a big deal this was for Nesta. “You should see the way he looks at you. It’s as if there’s no-one else in the room.” — PLEASE I AM LIVING FOR EMERIE AND GWYN SUPPORTING CASSIAN IN PURSUING NESTA AND CHEERING FOR HIM ON THE SIDELINES
“Nesta didn’t think Cassian was a puppy. She thought him more like a wolf that would do anything to care and defend his pack. There was a rugged wildness to him that heated her blood, thrilled her to her very core.” — He’s a puppy at heart when it comes to Nesta. A big lovely soft hearted puppy
“She’d always known it—had tried her best to ignore it—but somehow, that morning in her favourite bookshop, with the light slanting through the small square windows, she’d broken her rule on dating.” — with such a romantic and perfect way of asking I don’t know how you could have said no
“Put on those leather-look jeans,” Emerie announced after she’d taken a sip of her double espresso. “And that satin cami you bought the other day. The red one. Cassian will have a heart attack.”
“Or even better, have your hair down,” Gwyn suggested, as she dumped yet another packet of sugar into the mocha frappuccino that was already topped with whipped cream and caramel sauce. It looked like a disgustingly heart-inducing concoction and Nesta refrained from wrinkling her nose at it. “You never wear your hair down and you look so beautiful like that.”
“Cauldron, I wish I was there to watch him have a coronary,” Emerie sighed wistfully, before Nesta could even open her mouth to reply. “He’s going to self-combust when you open the door—” — yes to all of the above, he’s going to self combust
But Emerie merely raised a dark eyebrow, unfazed. In the low lighting of the coffee shop, her Illyrian heritage had never been more stark—or arresting. “Nesta, the last time you wore those pants, I thought Cassian was going to finally lose all restraint and pin you against the nearest wall.” — SCREAMING I AM LIVING FOR EMERIE AND GWYN LIVE COMMENTING CASSIAN BEING A SIMP AND YES HE SHOULD HAVE DONE THAT
“Nesta loosed an abrupt snort. She considered telling Gwyn that what she was describing was Azriel’s eyes on her, but she bit her tongue. Gwyn wasn’t ready for that.” — HEUEHEUEUEUEUE
Instead, she confessed what she was scared of, “Cassian just wants what he can’t have. He’ll get bored.” — HE DOES NOT AND HE WILL NOT HE IS IN LOVE WITH YOU
“Stop thinking everything you’re thinking.” Emerie’s abrupt tone snapped Nesta out of her thoughts. “Cassian is good and kind and fucking sexy, Nesta. He is one of a small minority in Illyrian culture and if my sights weren’t currently set on a particular female, I’d be climbing that male like a tree.” — hell yeah preach emerie amen
Emerie grinned and snorted at the same time. “What can I say? He’s hot as fuck and rumour has it that he knows what to do with his very sizeable dick.” — SCREAMING I LOVE EMERIE
Gwyn sighed softly, as if she’d seen every troubling thought in her friend’s head. “Cassian isn’t like other men, Nesta. He won’t expect anything other than your company and you like his company. The way the two of you bicker—”
“—is like an extended method of foreplay,” Emerie interjected happily. — CASSIAN IS ONE OF A KIND YES
“They went on another date. And another one. They went to the local fair to win her a new fish. Visited a specialised tea shop where they created their own personalised tea. They went for a drink. Met for coffee. Watched a movie. Had dinner at a small, local Illyrian restaurant that Nesta had loved more than she could have ever fathomed.” — PLEASE THEY WENT ON MULTIPLE DATES AND THEY ARE ALL SO PERFECT SOBBING
“But, Cassian never led things any further than a kiss goodbye at the door.
Instead, they talked. And what struck Nesta the most was how much she enjoyed getting to know Cassian on a new level. She learnt about his life and quirks, uncovering the deeper parts of him that he rarely let anyone see beneath the affable, easygoing elements that he displayed to others like a crutch.” — SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING HE IS BEING SUCH A GENTLEMAN RESPECTING HER PAST AND WANTING TO TAKE THINGS SLOW
“And perhaps it was because Cassian leashed that tactile part of himself from Nesta that she started to anticipate his touch—crave it. Every brush of his fingers over hers felt sacred. When he dared to slip his hand in hers, the warmth that spread over Nesta’s belly had her heart skipping as she secretly hoped he wouldn’t let go.” — LOVE LANGUAGE IS TOUCH LOVE LANGUAGE IS TOUCH
“There was no pressure, no expectations, no demands.
It gave Nesta room to breathe, to think. It made her realise that she wanted Cassian with a ferocity that made her whole body ache.” — I will not survive this fic the overload of softness I’m experiencing
As always, he knew within seconds that she wasn’t feeling herself. His voice deepened with concern. “Did you sleep, sweetheart?” — SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING
There was a long pause on the end of the line. When Cassian spoke, his voice was a little rougher. “Stay in?”
Another pause. Two heartbeats. Three.
“Do I get the same perks as in the theatre?”
“Do I get to hold your hand in the dark?” Cassian prompted when she didn’t say anything. — PLEASE HE IS SO DESPERATE WHAT A SIMP
Nesta snorted. “We’ve kissed multiple times and you want to hold hands?”
“I want to do all sorts of things to you, Nesta.”
“Come round at one,” Nesta told Cassian abruptly, and then she hung up. — I AM GIGGLING LIKE A MANIAC RIGHT NOW
Nesta observed him, her arms firmly crossed over her chest, not only to ward off the effect he had on her, but the cold as well. Thanks to the recently-hiked energy bills that seemed particularly punishing to the lowly paid writer that she was, her apartment was freezing. “I told you I had snacks.”
“And I know that you need to eat something besides popcorn and millionaire cheesecake.” — He knows her so well sobbing
“I actually made you chai,” Cassian told her as he turned back to face her. His smirk had given way to a look that was surprisingly apprehensive as he pulled a tall glass bottle full of a caramel coloured liquid out of one of the paper bags.
“The real stuff,” he added when Nesta just blinked at him, then at the glass bottle—a present made just for her. “I made it from scratch. It tastes better than that teabag stuff you’re drinking. You just need to warm it up on the stove or in the microwave.” — HE IS SO NERVOUS SHE IS NOT GOING TO LIKE AND NESTA IS SPEECHLESS AT HIS KINDNESS I AM CRYING
“A sudden sensation of guilt overwhelmed Nesta. Cassian had arrived laden with food and gifts, and all she’d managed to do was shower and run a brush through her hair. She hadn’t even made an effort with her outfit—she’d been so tired that she’d just tugged on a pair of black leggings and her comfiest, oversized sweater. Although, beneath that Nesta couldn’t deny that she’d slipped on some red lace.” — you could be wearing a potato sack and cassian would still find you stunning. The red lace is enough to make him lose his mind
“A large hand closed around her hip. Nesta wasn’t sure if it was an attempt to keep her there or to steady her, but she didn’t care. His palm was warm and Nesta’s body begged her to melt into his touch. But that crack in his expression? That had told Nesta enough.
Cassian had betrayed himself the moment they’d shared the same air, the same breath.
He wanted her. She’d seen it move in the depths of his eyes. Had seen it flicker across his expression, like the torturous lick of a flame.” — THE LARGE HAND ON HER HIP SOMEONE CALL THE AMBULANCE I AM DYING OVER HERE JESUS CHRIST ASHJSDHHD
“She didn’t want to admit that she was still waiting for the next instalment of her book advance and was tight enough for cash that she had been skimping on things like heating. The past few weeks had been spent suffering in the cold of her apartment and existing on food like popcorn kernels (always cheap), rice, noodles, and an endless supply of millionaire cheesecake (baked by Gwyn to fuel Nesta through her writing deadlines). Essentially, nothing of nutritional value.
Cassian studied her for a few seconds before he dipped his chin in what Nesta knew wasn’t an agreement to drop the issue, but in sudden understanding. Because whilst Cassian ran a successful business now, he would never forget the poverty of his upbringing. Knew what it was like to count the pennies and scrimp on essentials.” — Oh Nesta… this situation sucks but I’m glad Nesta has the girls and now Cassian to help her
Cassian’s hazel eyes flared with the challenge of her hesitation. His grin was all teeth as he lifted the blanket he’d covered his legs with. “Come on, Nes. I don’t bite.”
And only because he wanted to spark a reaction out of her—because he wanted to taunt her into gnashing her own teeth at him—did Nesta manage to maintain a cool exterior and throw back the first thing she could think to send him off kilter. “And if I want you to bite?” — THE WAY YOU TOOK THE ACOMAF QUOTE AND MADE IT EVEN MORE PERFECT PLS MARRY ME
And Nesta expected him to take the bait. She knew just how dark and unsteady his voice would be when he next spoke (I can think of some places I’d like to bite, sweetheart). He would sound exactly like he had earlierwhen he had confessed on the phone, I want to do all sorts of things to you, Nesta, but Cassian only handed her a steaming mug of chai with what Nesta liked to believe was an unsteady hand. Said gruffly, “Try this.” — HE IS SO DAMN CLOSE TO PUTTING THE FOOD ASIDE AND JUMP ON HER I AM SHOCKED AT HIS SELF CONTROL
When he spoke, it came out a little rough, “Good?” — he’s so so close to snapping nesta you meanie he’s trying to be a gentleman
“Besides the fact that Cassian wasn’t holding her hand, watching a movie with him turned out to be an undeniably pleasant activity. For one, he was warm and smelt good. Secondly, he fed her snacks. Nesta hadn’t noticed it at first because she was underfed, tired, hungry—and ok, fine, horny—but the more energy she got, the more she realised that he wasn’t eating, only enabling. “ — he flirts he warm he nice smelling but most important he cooks for you (WHY ISNT HE HOLDING HER HAND THO WHY
“It wasn’t a concern Cassian had voiced, but through her time in knowing him, Cassian had watched her grow skeletal with grief. Grief for the girl she’d been, who believed she deserved such punishment for her callous behaviour upon the death of her parents, that she’d deserved someone like Tomas.” — PLEASE NOT THIS THE PAIN IS COMING BACK NO NOOO
As always, he chose the latter. “I can certainly see that. You eat like a baby dinosaur.” — why can I very vividly picture Cassian saying ‘rawr’ to Nesta, why
“The first day we met, I saw you across the room and asked your sister to introduce us.”
Nesta blinked. She hadn’t known that, she’d just thought it was Feyre’s desperate attempts at pairing her up with someone who was not Tomas. Her heart began to beat too fast again but she pushed down the sound thundering in her ears. Screwed her nose up instead, falling into her usual unimpressed act. “Because I scared off a male twice my height?”
Cassian didn’t laugh “Exactly that.” — Cassian has a type: scary hot women, which evolved to scary hot women named Nesta Archeron
“Cassian’s fingers grazed her cheek and she shivered back to reality as the scent of him enveloped her. In an instance, she went from dark to light. He had leant close to her when she’d zoned out and some of his escaped hair had fallen across the rugged, handsome lines of his face.
Instinctively, she reached up to touch his hand, until his palm was cupping her cheek. This close up she could see every one of his dark lashes, the specks of gold in the open green of his eyes. And she let him see all of her.” — THIS IS SO FUCKING SOFT THEY ARE SO FUCKING SOFT AND PERFECT AND ADORABLE
“I want you to do all sorts of things to me.” — HEYEHEUEYEUEUE SAY YES CASSIAN
The knot in Cassian’s throat bobbed and his hazel eyes darted to her throat, to her lips. “That’s what you want?” he asked, his voice broken and hoarse. And Nesta had the distinct impression that she hadn’t said the right thing. — THE KING ASKING FOR CONSENT SO FUCKING SEXY
“And that was it, Nesta realised. Cassian had been waiting for her to make a move and this.was.it. Their moment: on the couch with Nesta sleepy yet somehow wired awake, the rustle of snacks their only accompaniment as they both moved towards each other again at the exact same moment.” — OMG IT IS HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM EVERYBODY STAY FUCKING CALM
“But it was his eyes that had Nesta truly looking at him. Cassian had stared at her many times before, but what she saw now threw all of those previous looks out of the window. Up close, Nesta could only see the complex golds and browns and emeralds that were breathtaking in colour. And in the depths of his dilated pupils was pure, unchained lust tinged with something else that, for a moment, Nesta couldn’t dissect.
When it hit her that it was utter awe and acceptance, she found it hard to breathe.
It made Nesta feel like she was stripped bare and… desirable. Beautiful.” — no words. This whole part is just so wow really no words perfection
“Because she’d been starved of touch for years and it hadn’t bothered her, but now Cassian’s body was warm against her, his torso and legs pressed against her right side. Nesta wondered if she’d been holding out for this—for him—without having realised it.” — SHE WAS WAITING FOR HIM I AM GONNA JUMP OUT OF A WINDOW
“Fuck, Nesta,” Cassian swore. He tore his mouth from hers only to redirect his attention to her neck with his lips and tongue and teeth. He was ravenous and demanding, yet there was still some control to him—in the way that he knew what he wanted out of every savoured touch, every relished taste. — He waited so long for her that he’s going to take his slow slow time with her
“Can I?” he asked raggedly. He hooked his thumb under the waistband of her leggings again for emphasis, but Nesta couldn’t speak—couldn’t say the words—so she just tilted her hips again in a mute order.
A scar-slashed eyebrow raised a fraction, but there was no amusement across his features, only an expression eaten by want. “Was that a yes?” he asked hoarsely. — CONSENT CONSENT KING GOD THIS IS SO FUCKING SEXY I CANNOT
“You first,” Cassian rasped. “Will you let me, sweetheart?” — THE WAY HE WANTS TO GIVE HER THE UTMOST PLEASURE AND DOES NOT CARE ABOUT HIMSELF AT ALL WHY DO FICTIONAL MEN HAVE TO BE SO PERFECT
“Nesta’s life was in his hands and never had she gone so willingly.” — POETRY
“Cassian loosed a soft, contented moan. Or maybe it had been her, Nesta thought absent-mindedly, as Cassian rubbed his nose affectionately against hers.” — THE NOSE RUBBING PLEASE I AM A MELTED PUDDLE OF COTTON CANDY
“I could watch you come over and over and never get bored.” — this has such acosf vibes of Cassian saying that watching Nesta come is close to a religious experience we love our simp boy
Instinct screamed at Nesta to look away, but she found that she was caught in his stare. “How many times have you said that before?”
“Never,” he vowed. He bowed his dark head to kiss one corner of her mouth. Then the other. “I’ve only said it to you, Nesta.” — YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE FOR HIM NESTA
Another gasp escaped her lips, her words half an exhale, half a moan as she grappled his shoulders for purchase. There was a ringing in the background, but Nesta didn’t care, couldn’t think above anything but the rising wave between her legs. “Oh Gods.”
“Oh Cassian would be better,” Cassian purred, his lips and breath ghosting over her mouth, but she couldn’t snarl at him. Couldn’t do anything but moan again as his finger pressed down just so. — HE IS SUCH A LITTLE SHIT LMAOOO
“You look so beautiful like this,” Cassian said, and there was a touch of wonder in his voice as he nudged at the underside of her chin with his nose. He dragged his open mouth along her jawline, all the way up to her ear. “I’ve imagined what you’d look like so many times, but I never thought it would be like this.”
“Like what?” Nesta moaned, astounding herself at how much she wanted to know.
“Real,” Cassian confessed, and there was something so committed in his expression as he drew back to study her face, something so unguarded and also a little sad, as if she was a mirage he thought might disappear at any moment. — he loves her so so fucking much it hurts Jesus Christ I’m gonna kill myself this is perfection
But he didn’t move. His gaze only flitted to her lips, to her glowing cheeks before they snapped back to her eyes again. And there was something so torn in his expression in that moment, a crack, a fissure, that Nesta finally registered the incessant ringing sounding from the coffee table.
She frowned slightly. “Is that your phone?”
“It’s an alarm,” Cassian admitted, and he sounded afflicted. “So I didn’t forget the class,” he added, when Nesta’s frown deepened in confusion. — DAMN IT WHY COULD HE NOT BE ON A DAY OFF! We Stan a responsible man tho and the fact that he had to put an alarm or else he’d stay there all day is sooo cute
“It took Cassian a moment to steady his breath, to leash the desire that seemed to howl through his body. When he refocussed his attention on her face, Nesta saw the stark want there, knew how much he had held himself back because he’d wanted to pleasure her first.” — CASSIAN JUST CASSIAN BEING PERFECT
“I knew I wouldn’t want to leave,” Cassian confessed finally, and a band tightened around Nesta’s chest. — SOBBING SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
“Their faces were still so close to one another’s that it felt as if the short distance between them harboured all of their secrets. And that magnetic pull that always tussled between them was there too, like an invisible tether. Nesta could see that Cassian battled with it too. She saw it in the spiralling depth of his eyes, felt it in the way his fingers tightened slightly in her hair. She even sensed it in the yearning, begging scent of him: like the comforting freedom and sense of belonging that came with stepping out into the mountainous outdoors. Like you were no longer alone but part of something bigger.” — MATE BOND IN MODERN AUS WILL NEVER NOT HIT ME IN THE FACE AND MAKE ME SCREAM SOULMATES
“I think you should stay,” Nesta whispered before she could talk herself out of it. She dragged her gaze away from him, even though it took all of her self control to do it. “I know you can’t,” she added quietly. “But I wish you could.” — SHE IS BEING SO SINCERE AND BARING HERSELF TO HIM SOBBING I AM SO PROUD NESTA
“Me too, sweetheart,” he said eventually, as if it took effort to say it. He pressed his mouth against hers, his lips soft and lingering. “But as much as I’d like to see you come a third time, I have to go.” — his worry is making her feel more pleasure WHEN WILL I FIND A REAL LIFE CASSIAN WHEN
“There was something in the way that Cassian spoke that hinted to Nesta that he’d already tried to get someone to cover the class for him.” — toxic of Azriel to not cover for him. TOXIC
“And Nesta didn’t know if Cassian sensed that rise and fall within her, that worry inbred in her from Tomas that this was what males wanted—to have sex and then to abandon her until the next time.
A calloused palm skimmed up Nesta’s cheek until it settled, warm and inviting. Nesta resisted the urge to lean into the touch, but she met Cassian’s eyes.
“Trust me when I say I wish I could stay.” — THE WAY HE IS SO SYNC WITH HER AND KNOWS WHAT SHE IS THINKING AND IS TRYING GO REASSURE HER ALL THE TIME GIVEN HER PAST JESUS
“When he turned back to her, Cassian bowed his head to kiss her. It started out chaste, but transformed into something deeper—lazily hungry. The large hands, that had only just ceased working their magic, framed her face.
Nesta began to burn again, flames of want roaring inside of. When Cassian tore his mouth from hers, chest heaving, Nesta had the bizarre urge to make him snap. To take one of his thumbs and suck on it.” — DO IT DO IT AND MAKE HIM MISS WORK HE CAN SAY HE GOT AN EMERGENCY CALL
“Think of me in the shower,” Cassian said, his voice an entreating, gruff plea against her lips. — ooh you little piece of smugness
“Nesta thought of Cassian in the shower. She couldn’t help it. The ghost of his touch still tingled through her, the scent of him still clinging to her skin despite the water’s best attempt to wash him away.” – I don’t blame you sister
“How was the shower?” — LMAO HE IS SUCH A LITTLE SHIT
“How was yours?” — SCREAMING WELL DONE NESTA WELL DONE
“I thought of you the entire time.” — SCREAMING EVEN MORE BECAUSE I KNOW HE AINT LYING
“When can I see you again?
And that was when it set in. The panic. The understanding that she’d ignored for years and years. That hidden pearl of knowledge which had made Nesta run from Cassian after that first meeting.” — SHE IS FINALLY REALISING SHE LOVES HIM TOO FINALLY
“And it was right then, as that clarity pierced through Nesta, that she fell prey to Emerie’s prediction.
She had her inevitable meltdown.” — I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTERS AND EMERIE AND GWYN BEING SO SMUG AND WITH THEIR ‘I told you so’ FACES
A Bookstantrash review giving me LIFE as always ❤️❤️
I’m sufficiently thrilled that you haven’t just hated on me in the angst in this fic, largely because I think I gifted you with just enough fluff and smut.
Notes: Hi everyone, sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter to you, especially given that I left this on a MAJOR cliffhanger for you all. There was so much dialogue in this chapter–and things to explain–that it took me a while to formulate everything in a way that I was happy with. Big shout out to my beta @noirshadow for going through this with a fine tooth comb and making it better! Also sorry in advance for any typos, because after I did my corrections I was too tired to read through it again, ha.
BUT, anyway, in this chapter, you finally get some answers to things I know you guys have been predicting… I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!
Also, I updated my modern AU A Golden Opportunity a few weeks back. It’s Nessian (obviously) and is fluffy, angsty and smutty… Everything we want in a fic? Check it out if you’re so inclined, it’s on A03 :) xx
Chapter 51
Nesta
Nesta fell. Water gave way to dank, chill air and then there was the thud of her body as it connected with a cold, lifeless floor. Skin scraped on stone, Nesta’s bones ricocheted with the splintering impact. But it was nothing on the pain inside her—the vast, cavernous emptiness—as if someone had snatched Nesta’s soul and locked it up somewhere else.
Notes: Hi everyone, sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter to you, especially given that I left this on a MAJOR cliffhanger for you all. There was so much dialogue in this chapter–and things to explain–that it took me a while to formulate everything in a way that I was happy with. Big shout out to my beta @noirshadow for going through this with a fine tooth comb and making it better! Also sorry in advance for any typos, because after I did my corrections I was too tired to read through it again, ha.
BUT, anyway, in this chapter, you finally get some answers to things I know you guys have been predicting… I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!
Also, I updated my modern AU A Golden Opportunity a few weeks back. It’s Nessian (obviously) and is fluffy, angsty and smutty… Everything we want in a fic? Check it out if you’re so inclined, it’s on A03 :) xx
Chapter 51
Nesta
Nesta fell. Water gave way to dank, chill air and then there was the thud of her body as it connected with a cold, lifeless floor. Skin scraped on stone, Nesta’s bones ricocheted with the splintering impact. But it was nothing on the pain inside her—the vast, cavernous emptiness—as if someone had snatched Nesta’s soul and locked it up somewhere else.
Gasping, Nesta struggled for a breath that cracked out as a sob. Her fire had cocooned her from the water, preventing her from inhaling it into her lungs. But none of that mattered as she reached inside of her, straining her metaphorical fingers until they brushed her torn, partial end of the bond.
The pain was immediate. Staggering. Agonising.
Nesta cried out, her throat ripping the sound out of her as her body reared in pain—in grief. The sound filtered upwards, through the water above her. It pierced the Lake’s surface, until it carried on the wind for eternity, like the will of a wrathful deity.
Nausea swirled inside of Nesta like a tempest. She felt violated, as if an integral part of her had been ripped away to leave nothing but a gaping wound. And the bond… it was tattered: jagged flaps of skin and sinew after a limb had been torn from a body.
Remnants of ruby sparked across Nesta’s vision, and that’s when she saw Cassian’s end of the bond, floating a distance away from her, retreating, fading…
Nesta lurched for it with a sob.
It felt insubstantial, as slippery as blood beneath the mental image of Nesta’s fingertips. It slithered from her grip, dancing as if it was floating amongst a seabed, ruled by nothing but the toss of the current—until it threatened to no longer be there at all.
When Nesta managed to grab for it and hold on, the wave of pain and relief were two conflicting storms. The scarlet light of Cassian’s magic flared magnificently inside of her before it stuttered out, like a dying star saying its final goodbye.
And then the bond turned limp and dark and lifeless in Nesta’s grip.
There was no longer pain.
There was nothing but Nesta’s jagged breath.
It was that which made Nesta finally retch and vomit onto the damp stone floor. But she clutched onto that end of the bond with all her might. Didn’t let go, pulled on both ends until she could tie them together in a makeshift knot around one of the strips of bone in her ribcage—an anchor—as she sobbed Cassian’s name. Again and again, as the tears streaked down her face, mingling with the Lake water.
Nesta emptied her stomach. Again. Again. Until she couldn’t throw up anything else and her insides were rubbed raw.
It took her a long time to realise that she wasn’t alone. With the death of the bond came a numbness that coated her body, desensitising her to the prickling awareness that did its best to alert her nerves. It skittered its pointed feet of her skin, over and over, until an pressing voice in Nesta’s head ordered her to get up, to face the potential danger before her.
But when Nesta tried to coax her body into action nothing happened. There was no fear, no will,despite the strength of her fire magic in her veins, which pulsed like the insistent thrum of blood.Her mind and body felt as if it was wading through mud, every muted thought and process sticky with resistance.
Get up, sweetheart.
Cassian’s voice rumbled through Nesta’s head like a rolling thunderstorm. It startled her, rattled her enough to momentarily lift the numbness. And Nesta could have sworn that the felt the ghost of his calloused hands as they cupped her face—his soft eyes as they searched hers.
A pain—dull and muted, but very much there—throbbed through Nesta’s skin. It felt like someone was pressing a thumb to a swollen wound. The pain grounded her a little, sent the mud receding enough that she could think a little clearer.
She had come here to complete a task. That was the thought that speared through her, like a shaft of light reaching through leaves. She was here to find out Kallon’s next steps. To finally be useful and to fight for what was right.
Nesta had sacrificed her and Cassian’s bond for the greater good of Illyria.
It couldn’t be in vein. It wouldn’t.
Clutching tighter at her ribcage, Nesta clung to that purpose and willed an ember of Cassian’s power to ignite inside of her. She knew that if she could just sense him again that she could find the courage to move, to act—to investigate that other presence she knew to be with her under the Lake.
But it was only her own magic that wreathed Nesta’s hands. It twined around her ribcage in misty ribbons, as if it had been summoned by the death that had just taken place inside of her.
The reminder had every limb growing heavy again, the muddy darkness threatening to overcome Nesta and pull her down again. But Nesta desperately tried to hold on to that kernel of thought—her purpose, her mission—because she hadn’t resurrected herself from the far reaches of her trauma only to be swallowed by it again.
She was strong.
She was powerful.
She was resilient.
Magic sparked and crackled inside of Nesta. A voice whispered in her ear again , urgent and insistent: someone’s here, someone’s here, someone’s here.
Dredging up every ounce of willpower that Nesta could manage, she propped herself up with her hands.
And through the wet straggle of her hair, she looked up.
Ahead of Nesta, by the cluster of rocks that lined the cavernous wall, stood a spectral figure. It—she—was female, her form even less corporeal than Durkhanai’s had been. But when Nesta’s eyes strained, she could see that just like Durkhanai, the female was made up of different shades of phantom shadow. Some patches on her were darker than others—her knees, her hands, her left cheek, her forehead—and Nesta knew that, like Durkhanai, they were marks of bruises and blood and dirt. One wing was damaged, bent at an angle that Nesta had seen on Cassian at that final battle in Hybern. Bones had been snapped and broken, a claw dangled limp and useless above her shoulder.
In Nesta’s head, she heard the memory of Cassian’s hoarse, terrible scream.
The internal sound pulled out the death of Nesta’s magic. Her hands lifted of their own accord, away from where they had been protecting her ribcage, as if they were obeying a divine call, a kiss of death, that Nesta was not aware of.
Magic streamed slowly across the cavern, towards the apparition, like a visible ribbon of wind.
The second Nesta’s magic brushed the ghost, the spectre shuddered. One minute, it was nothing but silvery shadow, the next the female was glitching into colour. It all happened in snatches: a nose, hazel eyes, bat wings that weren’t quite the right shape, long tangled hair. But Nesta was on her knees, still barely able to breathe upright, still reeling from the tear that she’d felt inside of her—that snap of a band finally pulled too taut.
Soft footsteps filtered into Nesta’s ears before they stopped just in front of her. The figure wasn’t glitching half as much now. Nesta saw bare, dirty feet and a set of petite legs that were covered in scrapes and cuts. Clothing that was torn and threadbare…
The phantom was close now. A coldness radiated from her incomplete form, a bone-deep chill that should have frozen Nesta in place, but didn’t.
And when the spectre reached down, Nesta didn’t even flinch. Because that voice in her head had gone silent.
It didn’t scream at her to run or fight.
And when Nesta scented the comforting notes of pine, the smoke that came from an open fire, and the freedom that came with frost-kissed air, something sat up inside of her.
Sad eyes connected with Nesta’s. And in that exact moment, Nesta’s breath should have caught. Her heart should have frozen mid-beat and a chill of realisation should have crawled down her spine, but she only stared. Stared at the familiar tattoo on the inside of the female’s wrist—a sun and a moon—before a rough and weathered hand came to rest on Nesta’s shoulder.
Then the female said what Nesta already knew, in a voice that was both familiar and different.
And finally—finally—Nesta’s heart squeezed painfully in surprise, like it was crushed between a clenched fist. Suddenly alive and beating, numbed but there.
“Welcome to the Lake of Souls, Nesta Archeron. My name is Maya.”
***
All Nesta could do was stare. She’d descended into another level of shock, tunnelled somewhere deeper within herself. And her magic… It was still streaming out of her, but now it was concentrating its efforts from the point where the spectre’s hand was resting on her shoulder.
The touch was like being plunged back into the icy waters of the Lake, but then the ghost was in full colour and real—flesh and blood—as if the spectre had used Nesta’s magic to make the phantom outline of her more complete.
The first thing that struck Nesta was that the female’s eyes were hazel, the star green in them overcome by a luminous honey brown. And as they shone, amber and gold glittered across her irises in a way that was both familiar and mesmerising. Long dark hair, matted and tangled, framed the ghost’s heart-shaped face, which was marred with bruises and scrapes.
The injuries weren’t as gutting as Durkhanai’s, but there was still something awful and sinister about them. Something quietly brutal and lonely in its making.
There was also absolutely no denying that the female before her was the spitting image of her twin.
And she’d called herself Maya.
“Come,” the female—Maya—said gently. Her voice was smooth and calming, but it was not weak.
The female lifted her hand from Nesta’s shoulder and held it out to her. As she moved, Nesta spied that tattoo again, a moon and a sun, on her wrist.
“I don’t know how much time we have,” Maya added. Her eyes flitted down to her hand, which was no longer silvery but tan. “My body hasn’t been this corporeal since I died and came to the inbetween. It could disappear at any moment. You must have a lot of questions.”
Without a thought for her safety, Nesta took the female’s cold hand. After all, the twin looked like Ailie and Samra’s mother—Kallon’s mother—and the Maya that Nesta had known Above had never made any move to harm her.
Together, they moved across the stone floor. The only sounds came from Nesta’s feet, the breath clouding out of her, the echoing drip of water as trickled down the walls which were damp with lake water and moss.
As they walked, Nesta eyes flitted between cataloguing the space she’d fallen into, and scanning the twin before her. There was a tug inside of her, an urgent feeling that she was missing something essential. But when Nesta tried to connect the dots, her thoughts slid away from her.
So, instead, Nesta tried to focus on the here and now. The loose stones biting into the tread of her sodden boots. Her breathing, in and out, as it tried to fight the constriction in her throat. She pretended her palm was pressed against Cassian’s heart, the dependent tempo of his heartbeat beating hers back into steady time.
When Nesta finally settled her gaze back on Maya, the female was staring up towards the ceiling above them. The stretch of the Lake was suspended by a magic Nesta didn’t understand, crystal clear and crisp in its image. There were no ripples, no sign that the water was a living body controlled by other elements. There was no roil of silver fog, no ripple as the wind skimmed over the Lake. Nothing but stillness, as if down Below, everything was stuck in time as souls waited to move on to the After Life.
The water was so still that Nesta could see the pine trees that hugged the Lake. And at the water’s edge, Nesta spied Frawley sitting on the shingles that littered the shoreline. She was peering into the water, a bead of healing magic at her outstretched palms…
But the sky above… empty. No Cassian, no Lorrian. Only spring blue brushed with the wisps of cirrus clouds.
Nesta’s next breath needled through her, sharp and pointed, as if it was catching on something vital. But then they had arrived as a cluster of stone rocks, and Maya was coaxing her down onto the flat surface of one of them.
The stone was so bitingly cold that the shock of it momentarily paralysed Nesta’s nerves. Then they screamed in protest. And it felt so reassuring to feel, to know that Nesta was still capable of it now the bond was severed, that Nesta clenched her fingers into fists and clung on to the sensation, extending it as her nails dug into her skin.
Maya crouched down and peered into Nesta’s face. Concern was etched into her dark brows in a way that made Nesta feel as if they’d switched roles: Nesta the wraith whilst Maya was in colour, even if there was no true life to the phantom. If anything, it was almost if Nesta’s magic had made Maya more dead, because whilst she was flesh, there was still a transparency to her image—an underlying silver glow to her body.
“Can you dry your clothes with your magic, sweetheart?”
The gentle motherly voice—the term of endearment—had Nesta’s eyes dragging to meet the ghosts.
In the depths of her stomach, Nesta felt something flicker, fleeting and sorrowful.
“Your fire magic,” the Illyrian pushed gently as Nesta’s heart gave a painful squeeze, the sensation no longer dulled but agonisingly real. “Can it dry your clothes? You’ll catch a chill.”
It was too much for Nesta to speak. There were suddenly so many questions rattling around in her skull, so many thoughts tripping over one another, that she couldn’t catch any of them. But her magic knew what it needed to do. It was so ready in Nesta’s veins that it took nothing for it to manifest. It wreathed her body with licking silver until Nesta was bone dry.
Nesta supposed that here in the inbetween, where death ruled supreme, her fire magic—her death magic—was stronger than it had ever been before. Here it didn’t just exist, it thrived.
Keep an eye on your healing magic. Use it where you can.
Frawley’s words sounded in Nesta’s head and she craned her neck so she could look up.
Up Above, Frawley was still there, scouring the depths of the water for signs of Nesta, her healing magic still at her palms. It was only a bead, but it was there. The light of it weak, flickering, like a beacon, a message.
But Nesta knew if she reached inside that it would take her a long time to find that pearl of her healing magic—the other facet of power that she’d been gifted. Death and rebirth. Fire and song.
Strength gathered in Nesta, winding tightly at the thought. Control came with it and Nesta pictured herself dousing her flames, until her power was humming back inside of her, poised and ready but obedient.
“That’s better,” Maya said, her gaze skimming over Nesta’s tear-stained cheeks and red eyes. “Us souls don’t feel the cold. It gathers to us, but it doesn’t settle into our bones as it does to the living. Our blood isn’t warm. There’s nothing to freeze.”
As she finished speaking, Maya straightened before she sat beside Nesta. She angled her body towards Nesta, but for a moment, her eyes flitted to the ceiling of water, scanning the tops of the pine trees, the shoreline, the sky…
“I came here looking for the Seer of the Sage,” Nesta said.
It was the first question that finally formed in Nesta’s head, even though it wasn’t the most pressing one. It came out of her slowly, uncertainly, in a voice that was scratchy and unused.
Her throat was sore from the screaming, the pain a wrenching reminder of what Nesta had lost.
Unconsciously, Nesta’s hands fluttered to her chest, to her ribcage, but her gaze remained trained on Maya. Because Nesta had come here with a mission in mind. She’d sacrificed so much to get Below and she couldn’t bare the thought of failing—of facing Cassian and him discovering that it had all been for nothing.
For a second, Maya studied the hands that clutched Nesta’s ribcage.
“You thought of me before you descended into the water,” Maya said eventually, her words careful and curated. “But I don’t think you realised it. It called my soul forth. Death answers death.”
A frown wrestled with Nesta’s brow. She tried to think back to what had happened in the water, but she could scarcely remember was anything beyond the horror of what she’d sacrificed.
Just the memory had Nesta looking away. Suddenly, she wished she was bone tired so she could curl up on the cold floor and fade away. But Nesta’s magic was vibrant within her, wholly awake, channelling and whispering and begging to release itself into the atmosphere. To become a part of the death that existed beneath the Lake.
After a pained silence, Nesta said flatly, “I already know a Maya. She looks identical to you.”
But whilst Nesta’s voice sounded dull and empty, the need for answers was scrabbling inside of her, like a caged animal clawing to get out.
Maya’s expression softened, her eyes suddenly so immeasurably sad that Nesta felt her own emotion clog inside of her in response.
“Her real name is Lyanne,” Maya said thickly. “My twin. My best friend. She sacrificed everything for me. Took my name so I could run.”
Lyanne. Nesta knew that name. It was the other twin, Marsh’s wife who they’d been told had died in the fire after having an affair with his brother, Halias.
Slowly, Nesta’s brain began working again. It started slowly, cogs cranking and turning until they were turning at lightning speed. No longer were they escaping thoughts but tangible. And it was such a relief to finally be able to think properly, to fully turn her mind away from the broken bond tattered and despondent inside of her.
Maya was watching Nesta with an entreating expression, as if she was waiting for Nesta to put it all together.
When everything clicked into place, it was a mixture of shock and disbelief.
“Lyanne never had an affair,” Nesta guessed, breathing the words out, the sound a hushed secret.
A sudden pain lanced through Nesta’s stomach, laced with Maya’s faint scent. But Nesta didn’t stack her empath wall back up so it was impervious to the emotions of others. Instinct told Nesta that she needed to keep it down. She needed to keep feeling, to root herself in the here and now rather than being consumed by the broken tie that she’d tied into a makeshift knot around her rib bone.
“No,” Maya replied, and that one word arced before the affirmation sunk into something sorrowful. One corner of Maya’s mouth trembled, failing in its attempt to smooth that sadness over with a smile. “Lyanne and I would never have betrayed one another that way.”
There was a moment where Nesta didn’t quite understand. But then it revealed itself like a fissure inside of her body, widening and widening until it was a gain realisation.
Because Nesta knew why Lyanne would take the place of her sister. Why one of them would run from a place of cruelty.
At our birth it was announced that whoever was to fall pregnant first would be gifted with a youngling made from the old Gods—a star-born child.
“You were pregnant,” Nesta whispered.
Maya’s hand floated to her tattered dress, to the flat of her stomach. Her mouth flickered upwards again and this time, one half managed to quiver into a tremulous smile. It was the mirror of someone else’s and, in that moment, everything was clear. It was almost as if Nesta had blinked and the world had become crisper with the realisation. And now that she knew, Nesta didn’t know why she hadn’t figured it out the second she’d met Lyanne in Ironcrest at the Solstice luncheon. Because now she’d noticed it, she couldn’t stop seeing it.
“I was pregnant,” Maya confirmed softly, hushed, her hazel eyes scanning Nesta’s expression as she watched everything fit together in the depths of Nesta’s eyes. “You might know that I was married to Halias, the second-born Princeling of Ironcrest. He was cruel—ever so cruel. But Lyanne… she grew to love the brother she was matched with. Marsh was different with her, softer. He shaped himself into someone better when he was with her. He could have been a good ruler with Lyanne by his side putting sense into his decisions. She was quieter than me, more academic, thriving on facts and knowledge. I was wilder, more unpredictable, desperate to channel my energy into something physical. I was furious, burning with the anger of what we’d been forced into, just because we were twins and female. I spent my time trying to befriend the guards and find a way out, whilst Lyanne secretly just wanted a happy ending.”
Maya took a breath and it shook, like the shiver of pain that often came with remembering something traumatic.
Without thinking, Nesta reached for the twin’s hands. Cold seeped into her, settling into her bones, but she ignored the sensation. She squeezed Maya’s dry, chapped fingers, ignoring how her magic pulled out of her again, streaming into Maya. Not feeding the spectre life, but death.
It was blindingly obviously that Nesta’s power was essential to the phantom. Nesta watched Maya close her eyes, savouring the stream of deathly magic as it stabilised her image, strengthening the solidity of her form. It made the glowing silver light outlining her body brighter.
But then Maya gave Nesta’s hands a last squeeze and let go. Took a deep breath and opened her glistening eyes, training them back on Nesta.
“When I fell pregnant, we knew I needed to run,” Maya confessed quietly. “Lyanne and I had been in the Ironcrest residence long enough to know that a star-born youngling raised under an Ironcrest roof was likely to result in war and bloodshed rather than peace. And there was also the fact that I’d fallen in love with one of the guards charged to watch us. In his prime, he had been a highly skilled warrior but had been demoted after he lost an arm in battle. He was deemed an Incomplete, but had garnered enough respect during his time on the battlefield that he’d managed to persuade the Prince of Ironcrest to give him the charge of looking after us. He was… not what Lyanne had endured with the other cold-hearted guards, whose loyalty had always been first and foremost to the Ironcrest royalty.
“At first I thought it was because he’d lost his arm and seen what society was like for those who could not fight. But slowly I grew to realise that under his gruff exterior he had a beating heart just like the rest of us. He cared about Lyanne and I. He allowed us freedoms no other guards had. He taught us how to fly under the cover of night, urged us to learn how to fight until we could both wield a sword…
“The love he and I shared was not something I’d ever dreamt of. It was both wonderful and painful, because even though we loved one another, we knew we could never be together. We barely addressed it, were too scared to admit what was between us. But the night before I was expected to marry Halias, I came to him and he was so relieved, I thought he might break.”
The image of Cassian flashed across Nesta’s mind. She saw the exact way his expression had crumpled in relief, collapsing in on itself, when he realised that Nesta had chosenhim, wanted him, in every capacity.
It made her chest ache, but she barely had time to catalogue the sensation, because Maya said, “We knew it would be our last time alone together, but I wanted my maidenhead to be taken by him. I wanted to have that choice, just once, of who would be my first. Someone who wasn’t cruel, but who cared for me so much that he would risk his life to save me.”
Nesta was scarcely breathing now. It came out thin and shallow, fragile, as if something as simple as breathing too loudly might pierce through Maya’s confession.
“We risked everything by doing it,” Maya admitted. Her hazel eyes desperately scanned Nesta’s expression, as if it was the utmost importance that Nesta not only listened but understoodthe gravity of what she was about to say. “But it was the best moment of my life. And I saw these strands of light behind my eyes, these gold and scarlet strands that I knew would tie he and I together if we chose to reach for it. But we could never have done that. To be mated would have been a death sentence, so we denied ourselves that joining, even though we came together in every other sense.”
Mates. Maya and her guard had been mates and they had been denied a life together because of a prophecy.
There was a lump in Nesta’s throat that she couldn’t swallow down. Her ribcage creaked with a crushing pressure, her eyes stung—
“After Lyanne and I were married to the Princelings, there was barely anywhere we could go where we weren’t watched,” Maya continued. “Halias was a jealous husband and he switched my personal guards so regularly that I could barely remember their names. I rarely saw my mate, often I only caught glimpses of him as he walked the tunnelled corridors or spied him at the far end of a room. But Lyanne and I had learnt to become ghosts by then—we’d done it all our lives. So, when we discovered I was pregnant, Lyanne slipped away to find him and together they came up with an escape plan.
“Halias used to drink too much and he always liked me to pour him a drink, ready for when he came to my bedchamber each night. So, one evening I spiked Halias’ wine with a sleep-inducing tonic. I coaxed him into bed and waited until he was passed out on the bed before we put the rest of our plan into action. Halias had raped and killed a poor servant a few days prior. They’d discarded her body over one of the cliff-faces and left her for the vultures to pick at. There was a secret exit out of the Ironcrest residence where my mate used to teach us how to fly and fight. So, he snuck out through the maze of tunnels and scoured the area at night until he found her body. He carried her back to the Ironcrest residence, we dressed her in Lyanne’s clothes and put her in the bed with him before we set the room on fire.
“For weeks, we’d been laying the groundwork that Lyanne had been betraying myself and Marsh by sleeping with Halias. The plan was to convince everyone that the charred female body wasn’t me but Lyanne. My twin sacrificed her happiness for me, so I could bring a child into the world away from the barbaric practices of Ironcrest rule. And I will never stop mourning what I’ve made her suffer.”
Maya finished speaking only for them to fall into a ringing quiet. And Nesta let it happen. She was reeling from shock, from disbelief. Lyanne had sacrificed her happiness for her sister, for the greater good, and she’d suffered in silence for the rest of her life. She’d let go of a male she’d loved so her sister could escape. Had endured her husband’s hatred for the rest of his life, as he mistakenly believed that she was not the female he loved—Lyanne—but her twin, Maya.
Lyanne had taken on a false identity. Had allowed her husband to use her body to bear an heir, all the while her very features only served to remind Marsh not only of his wife’s death but her ultimate betrayal—
The silence was interrupted by something sharp. A breath, Nesta realised, Maya’s confession finally tangled by her grief—by a sob.
A silver tear slipped down Maya’s cheek.
This time, there was no attempt at a smile.
Nesta tried to speak but no sound came out. She swallowed hard, and it eased the tightness in her throat enough for her to croak, “And your mate?”
Maya’s caught the tear with the back of her shining hand. Pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, as if that might stop the flow of tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.
“He flew me to the outskirts of a rival camp,” she said, her voice muffled by the hands in front of her face. “It was the best-defended war camp at the time and so it was ideal for me to hide in.”
She lifted her hands and whilst tears trembled in her eyes, they didn’t fall. “We said goodbye there. We knew there was nowhere we could hide together. Illyria is too harsh to make camp and survive on your own, you have to depend on the community around you. And both his reputation and missing arm made him too distinctive. He had been a revered warrior in his prime, so powerful he’d needed five siphons, despite his low-born status. He was known amongst the other war clans, he’d led armies. There was nowhere we could hide together without being found.”
Maya’s logic made sense, but it still made Nesta’s gut twist. She had seen how Illyrians had sneered at Lorrian’s missing arm, how they’d spat insults at him. How even his own brother had called him Incomplete, seeing Lorrian as half of a person when the truth of it was that Lorrian would always be one of the most well-rounded Fae Nesta had ever met, arm or no arm.
So, Nesta dipped her chin to show that she understood. And then asked what she needed to ask. What she needed to know, even though she did know. She’d known the more Maya had spoken, the story unravelling before Nesta’s feet, like a rolling ball of yarn as it unspooled. “What was the camp?”
Maya’s eyes sharpened in their focus. Even the light catching in her tears seemed to cease for a moment, as if time had rooted itself.
“Spearhead,” Maya said quietly. “But I think you’ve already put that together.”
“Yes,” Nesta whispered. It was all Nesta could say. She didn’t have the words. Her heart ached and her gaze was so ensnared with Maya’s that it felt like she was being pulled into something, into a history that was not hers but was being shared all the same.
So, Nesta allowed her loss for words to wash over her.
Waited for the words to spill out of Maya instead, and they did.
“I gave birth on the outskirts of the camp,” Maya continued finally. She didn’t blink. Barely moved apart from to fold her hands in her lap in the exact way Nesta had seen Lyanne do. “Nobody was able to assist me. I thought I’d die from the loss of blood. But my youngling came fighting into the world and he was perfect. The moment I heard him cry, I knew it had all been worth it. The pain and the suffering, losing my twin and mate—everything. My youngling was my warrior heart and full of so much love, so much joy you can’t even imagine. Even when his belly was bloated from the lack of food and his skin cracked from the cold, he’d still smile at me. It used to fracture my world, remake it.”
“It didn’t take long for me to know that he was special. He harboured so much Killing Power in his veins and there were… accidents. It would burst out of him when he was scared or when males decided to threaten me. Word soon got around the camps. Camp Lords started to visit me, wanting my boy, his power. And I couldn’t have that, Nesta. I was in hiding, we weren’t supposed to be drawing attention. I lived in fear every day that Marsh would come visiting, so when Devlon visited me, I agreed that my youngling could go with him and learn how to fight. It was better that he grew up outside of Spearhead, away from me. I knew that Windhaven was the least harsh of the camps, especially in their treatment of bastards. And I knew by then that nothing of Halias ran in my boy’s blood. He looked so much like his father, it hurt. He even had a birthmark on his wings in the shape of a star.”
The pounding of Nesta’s heart quickened into a roar. She could hear it in beating in ears like an additional pulse. If there had been any doubt in her mind, any reservations that she was jumping to conclusions, she wasn’t now. She had seen that scar. Had touched it with her fingers, days ago, when she’d been overcome with happiness, the membrane both leathery and soft beneath her touch. She’d thought it was a scar at the time, but now she knew better.
A vision flashed before Nesta’s eyes. Chapped hands cradling the small body of a winged boy as they sat in front of a meagre fire.
“Of course,” Maya added, interrupting the stunned blankness in Nesta’s head. The silence between them had stretched itself out, elastic and far-reaching with every frantic drumbeat of Nesta’s heart. “I was punished for letting my boy go. Spearhead thought they had a right to him you see. They wanted his power in their ranks.”
“Is that how you died?” Nesta asked, frantically trying to regroup. She reached for Maya’s hand and the iciness of the touch shocked her enough that she could focus.
“The males used to enjoy abusing me,” Maya admitted after a pause. “One day a group of them finally accosted me and things got out of hand. I tried to fight back. Stabbed three of them to death before they ended my life.”
Maya was no longer looking at Nesta but at their joined hands, the silver of Nesta’s magic flowing into her body like a lifeline. Or was it a deathline? There was no warmth to Maya’s hands, no signs of life. No pulse at her wrist.
“I’m sorry,” Nesta croaked, and she found that her cheeks were wet. She hadn’t felt the silent tears tracking down her cheeks, but she smelt water and salt. “I’m so sorry.”
The sorrow in Nesta’s voice pulled Maya’s gaze back up to hers.
The moment Maya saw Nesta’s tears, her face seemed to collapse, all the strength bleeding out of her.
“Do not be sorry,” Maya begged softly, her own tears sliding from the corner of her eyes. She cupped Nesta’s cheeks with her cold hands and the gesture was so motherly, so like something that Mas would do, that a sob cracked out of Nesta. “My Cassian survived because of the decision I made and I have not regretted it once.”
Despite how close their faces were, no breath brushed Nesta’s cheeks. Maya did not pull away, but her eyes lifted to the ceiling again—to the Lake Above—and in that breath stealing moment, Nesta knew what Maya was searching for.
“I’m sorry,” Nesta repeated, her throat tight, her words a rasp around the sob she tried to clamp down. Emotion was streaming through Nesta now like a current, free-flowing and overwhelming. “Your warrior heart, he’s not here.”
Hazel eyes reconnected with Nesta’s and a thumb ran over her cheek. Even though the touch was icy, Nesta felt the warmth of a mother’s love.
Another silver tear trickled down Maya’s cheek, her smile watery.
“I thought not,” she admitted. “But I had hoped I might catch a glimpse of him, to see the male he’d become.”
Nesta hadn’t thought it possible to feel more heartbroken, but she did. It was that which fuelled her to speak next. Because she might have failed in her mission in speaking with the Seer of the Sage, but Cassian’s mother was here and Nesta could give hersomething. A gift. An understanding of her son. And who better to do that than Nesta—her son’s mate—even if their bond had been broken.
“He’s…” Nesta started, but broke off. Because she wanted to do this right. Needed to do Cassian justice.
So, she closed her eyes and looked inward.
The moment Nesta brushed the tattered ends of the bond she’d tied around her ribcage, an image of Cassian was conjured in her mind. It was so vivid that Nesta could almost sense his touch, his voice, his scent. The ruby whisper of his magic ghosting through her, imprinted into the very fabric of her being.
“He’s the best male I know,” Nesta admitted softly into the gentle darkness. “He still has your copy of Heroicis. He reads it all the time.”
Nesta could sense Maya’s smile, even though she couldn’t see it. Cold fingers brushed Nesta’s cheek again. “He’s happy?”
“He still smiles,” Nesta answered, her voice growing hoarse again, her cheeks even wetter. When she opened her eyes Maya’s irises were shimmering, so animated, so thankful. “He smiles all the time, despite what he’s been through.”
“When it’s a full smile,” Nesta continued, “it’s like the sun piercing through the clouds, bright and life-changing. He’s kind and loyal and fights for what is right. He’s one of the most powerful warriors in Illyrian history, they call him Enalius, the Prince of Bastards, but he’s not like the rest of the Illyrians. He’s not arrogant and cruel but wholly good and I love him for that.”
A fresh stream of tears trickled down Nesta’s cheeks and dripped off her chin. Her voice trembled, but she carried on regardless, “And Cassian loves me more than anything, for exactly who I am, even though I can be thorny and difficult. But I’ve taken something from him, I’ve paid a great sacrifice to come here and I’ve made him suffer all in the hope that I could intercept a soul.”
At that, Maya straightened. Her hands dropped away from Nesta’s face, slowly, as if she was thinking.
“But it’s for a great cause?” Maya guessed eventually, her voice quiet.
“Yes,” Nesta admitted, and explained about Lyanne’s son Kallon, about the kerit attacks and Enalius’ sword. About her sister’s vision, the Seer of the Sage, and Nesta’s hope that by descending into the Lake of Souls, she could meet with the Seer and uncover Kallon’s next intentions for the Rebellion.
When Nesta finished, Maya’s nod was solemn.
“I’ve heard some of what you’ve told me,” she admitted. “New souls come to the Below and often share the happenings from Above. You have the regard of a lot of females, Nesta.” Maya squeezed Nesta’s hands and the gesture prepared Nesta for bad news. The weight of it began to sink in her stomach before Maya even said, “I’m sorry, Nesta, but the Seer of the Sage has not yet arrived here.”
Disappointment pierced through Nesta like a jagged knife before it twisted sharply.
She’d sacrificed everything to come here and it had all been in vain.
“She’s not here?” Nesta asked through the lump in her throat. Her stomach felt leaden with the weight of her guilt and failure.
“Souls take a while to find the Lake,” Maya explained quietly to Nesta. “There’s a pull that guides us here but it is not an easy journey. If the Seer of the Sage’s body was burnt at the pyre she might arrive in a few days, but if she wasn’t given a proper funeral rite then it will be harder for a Partial soul to find their way.”
A Partial soul like Maya. Cassian had tried to find his mother, to recover her body years later, but the males at the Spearhead camp had denied Cassian the knowledge in spite.
Had that been because they’d been refused Cassian in their ranks? Because Maya had allowed Devlon to take her youngling to Windhaven, the camp she thought her son would be safest in—the best of a bad lot?
For years, Cassian had suffered, cold and alone and so young. Until eventually, Cassian had met Rhys and Azriel. They’d become his new family, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten about his mother—where he had come from.
And Cassian could never forget about his past, his childhood. The years he endured as a bastard youngling, banished to the muddy outskirts of the Windhaven camp with only a battered tent for company. He’d had no love, no support. He’d had to win the clothes off his back, his food. He’d become tougher because of it, a better warrior because he’d had to be. Cassian had fought tooth and nail for everything in his life and only ever wanted to belong, to be deemed worthy of his company.
And Nesta loved Cassian all the more for it. He was her Prince of Bastards. Her Cassian.
Blinking away a new wave of hot tears, Nesta asked, “Are there many Partial souls at the Lake?”
“Yes,” Maya admitted. “Mostly females who were not deemed worthy—orphans and widows. Bodies that are burnt at the pyre are more corporeal. But those of us who were discarded and left to rot, we’re harder to see. It’s why I could not have come to lead you here myself, even though I felt your call. Us spectres who are Partial are not strong enough to leave this Lake. We remain here instead, anchored to the inbetween for eternity.”
“I saw—” Nesta swallowed. “Durkhanai—an orphan from Windhaven—she led me here.”
A soft smile curved the edges of Maya’s lips. “Durkhanai was a good girl. She told us all about you.”
Durkhanai with her beautiful eyes and shy smile. The female Nesta was certain had been Emerie’s mate, even though they’d never discussed it.
“She received a proper burial,” Nesta told Maya. “I made sure all of the females from Windhaven received one. I hoped she’d be in the After Life, not here.”
After all, the festival of Kharon had only been a few weeks ago. Nesta had hoped that the Windhaven victims who had died at the hands of the kerits had found their place beyond life.
“Durkhanai rests in peace,” Maya assured Nesta. “But you once saved her from abuse. So, when she felt your call, she came back to lead you here. To repay the debt and even out the balance.”
“She didn’t owe me anything,” Nesta said, swallowing hard. There was still a lump in her throat that she could not chase away—the memory of the broken bond, the heartbreaking hardship of Cassian’s mother. Of seeing Durkhanai, her body broken and torn, her final image a constant reminder of what she had endured. “I couldn’t save her when it mattered.”
“But you tried, didn’t you?” Maya corrected. She neatly folded her hands out from where they had been clasped in her lap. Until her palms were facing upwards, towards the underbelly of of the Lake. “You and your sister fought to save as many lives as possible that day. It’s not often that anyone fights for us Illyrian females, Nesta. We are thankful for you.”
“Your son does,” Nesta said fiercely. “He fights for you everyday. For the rights of Illyrian females.”
A sad half-smile tugged at one corner of Maya’s mouth and Nesta’s chest tightened. It was an exact replica of her son’s smile, the smile Cassian gave when he was sad but was pretending otherwise.
“That brings me great happiness,” Maya admitted. “But I imagine that Lyanne’s son, Kallon, is not like that.”
It was a question rather than a statement and Nesta dipped her chin.
“No, he’s not like that,” Nesta agreed, her lips twisting at the thought of the beady, yellow-eyed male. The way he’d raked his gaze over Nesta as if she was something he wanted to possess. “He claims the sword presented itself to him.”
Maya hummed and for a moment they sat together, the silence swelling around them as the twin processed.
Eventually, Maya straightened.
“Perhaps the sword merely needed an avenue,” she mused. “A prophecy is a prediction, after all. Its words aren’t meant to be taken as truth. There’s room for leniency and change. If the sword is not working for my twin’s son, perhaps it never will.”
“You left Ironcrest because you were the first to fall pregnant—because of the prophecy,” Nesta said, her words coming out slowly as she tried to articulate her swilling thoughts into words. “Did you think it was because Cassian would be star-born?”
“We thought he could be,” Maya admitted. “And I knew that if I raised a son under Ironcrest rule, it was entirely likely that his mind would grow diseased and tainted. Lyanne and I always dreamt of what a star-born youngling could grow to achieve if they were raised to see the world differently. If they weren’t brought up believing in the hierarchal practices that taint out culture. That is the main reason why I left, because change only comes with great risk.”
Maya’s gaze cut sideways to Nesta, her lips curling into a rueful smile. “But I have had years to think over the prophecy, Nesta, and whilst the fundamentals of it remain concrete, its path could have changed.”
Nesta’s brows nudged together. “The prophecy stated that the first twin to fall pregnant would birth a child that was star-born,” Nesta began, her voice slow as it picked its way through her thoughts. “Not that the first child would be star-born.”
“Yes,” Maya said, softly. “If I died before my predicted timeline, it’s entirely possible that any future younglings I would have given birth to ceased to exist. One of those younglings could have been the star-born child. For all we know, the prophecy could now be redundant, or perhaps the Seer of the Sage simply mispredicted and the star-born status fell on Kallon.”
“Do you believe that?” Nesta asked, because she didn’t. Enalius’ sword presenting itself seemed like too much of a coincidence. Logic told Nesta that Maya had been right, and that the sword was merely on a path. The mere fact that the blade disappeared when Kallon tried to wield it seemed proof enough. Kallon was merely a point in the sword’s journey to truly being found.
“I do not know my son beyond his younger years,” Maya admitted. “I can’t make that judgement. Only the Old Gods can do that—only Enalius’ sword can do that. If Cassian is worthy, the sword will bond to him.”
Nesta cast her mind to the scarlet of Cassian’s power. She thought of his seven siphons and the star ruby at his chest, which beat like its own heart. Cassian’s power had always sung to her, had always made her feel alive in a way that she could not explain, even after she’d known about the mating bond.
And Nesta had seen Cassian on the battlefield. He cut down opponents like he was in an orchestrated dance, bloody and brutal in its making. But it was also beautiful in its own barbaric way, as if his very self had been destined to be an exceptional warrior.
No male in the entirety of Prythian was as powerful as Cassian on the battlefield or in the skies.
Even the Illyrians begrudgingly accepted that it was almost as if he was an incarnate of a Warrior God.
But was that all just speculation? How could they ever know?
“If Cassian is star-born, the blade should not disappear for him,” Maya said as if she could hear Nesta’s thoughts, “but a prophecy is interchangeable. It can change allegiance for the one it deems most worthy at any time.”
Like a manticore, Nesta thought suddenly. On that first day she’d been introduced to Sala in the barn, Nesta had asked Cassian what would happen if she was no longer deemed worthy. If her actions outweighed the good and the scales tipped in favour of the bad.
Then Sala would disappear into the ether, as it were. An allegiance can be changed, after all.
“And what about Kallon’s efforts to bond himself to the blade? You don’t think that would work?”
Maya lifted a shoulder. “I am not an expert in dark magic, but I’d guess that Kallon would have the most success when his magic is the strongest.”
And that was when it dawned on Nesta. Kallon’s master plan. What he must have been angling for all along—
“The Blood Rite,” Nesta breathed. “An Illyrian’s magic is strongest then.”
Maya nodded, but Nesta was already standing, her thoughts whirling. She needed to get Above. If she was right, they didn’t have much time.
If the Blood Rite had gone ahead this year, it would have been scheduled for tomorrow.
So many questions thundered through Nesta, so much speculation. They had always thought it strange that Kallon had gone from killing thirty-one females in an attempt to bond Enalius’ blade to him to doing nothing at all. Nobody had been unable to uncover his plan or predict when he next planned to act—that was why they’d risked her coming to the Lake of Souls, after all.
But what if Kallon’s grand plan of cancelling the Blood Rite had been about far more than solidifying necessary support to the Rebellion from the families of the fallen? Had Kallon’s plan been two-fold? Ramiel was a mountain which was only accessible on the day of the Rite, when the three holy stars Arktos, Carynth, and Oristes aligned at its peak. And with the Rite cancelled, Kallon would have sole access to a Gods-blessed mountain without competing with the other warriors clambering and killing their way to status.
It would explain why Kallon had been biding his time. Why he hadn’t sacrificed the last three females to reach the sacred Illyrian number of thirty-three. Because it was on the thirty-third day of battle that Oya and Enalius had taken their final stand against the demon, Vanth, on the top of Ramiel itself.
Tomorrow Kallon’s magic would not only be at its strongest, but he would also be at the peak of a mountain that wasn’t just made of stone, but of pyrite. The very Gods-blessed stone that Nesta wore around her neck.Gifted by Cassian, its protective charm only working thanks to the few, sacrificial drops of Cassian’s power that existed within the stone.
Suddenly it all fit together in a monumental swoop of clarity. The sensation lanced through Nesta and the urgency made her start to pace the cold stone floor.
She folded her arms behind her head, the points of her elbows trained on the ceiling, just as her gaze was. “I need to get Above. I need to—”
Her words melted away when she turned back to Maya. The form of Cassian’s mother had lost its lustre, the colour of her dull and faded, as if the power she’d taken from Nesta had nearly been used up.
Maya had stood to join Nesta, but as she moved her body seemed to slip, until her form was cast in a gossamer of silver and Nesta could see the rocky wall beyond her—the confines of her soul.
Partial.
Cassian’s mother was still Partial and she would be tied to the Lake forever, unable to find eternal rest unless Nesta did something.
And Nesta thought she could do something.
“What happened—” Nesta began. The change in Maya had halted Nesta in her tracks, even as urgency tugged at her to move.But Nesta knew that this time with Maya was important. This moment was a once in a lifetime opportunity. And she needed to ask the questions Cassian couldn’t. “What happened to your mate?”
“I do not know,” Maya admitted quietly. Even her voice had taken on a different quality, distant and echoey in the earthen chamber. Her form flickered again, like a flame being tossed about by the wind before it righted itself. “I have not seen his soul pass through the Lake. He must be out there somewhere—in Velaris or another Court. I hope he is living a happy life, away from a race that shunned him because he suffered the consequences of battle.”
Alive. Cassian’s father was alive. A father who Maya claimed was kind and good at heart.
It meant that Cassian wasn’t an orphan. He never had been.
The pulse at Nesta’s throat gave a nervous kick. “What’s his name?” she breathed.
Maya’s smile was watery as she stepped closer to Nesta. She cupped Nesta’s face with weathered hands that flickered in and out of existence. It felt like the intermittent smatter of icy rain. “To most Illyrians, his name was Irin—King of Warriors. It was a nickname he was given at an early age because of his abilities in the sparring ring. But his real name was Cassian.”
Of course it was. Of course.
King of Warriors.
Prince of Bastards.
Like father like son.
“I can put you to rest,” Nesta said, as Maya’s hands dropped away. Her words came out throaty, a little hoarse, but Nesta suddenly knew without a doubt what her power was capable of. “Or at least, I can ready your soul for Kharon.”
It was as if Nesta’s words stilled Maya’s image, preternaturally freezing the spectre in disbelief.
“Would you want that?” Nesta pressed, searching the Illyrian’s shadowy face, the bruises and scrapes.
When Maya’s expression cracked, Nesta saw the relief in it, the apprehension, because it was one thing to hope and another to believe.
“Please,” the twin said, her voice scratched and broken. And Nesta understood the emotion that came with that one word. Because if Maya found eternal rest, she could spend her time with the people she loved in the After Life—even if it took time for them to join her. Lyanne, her mate, her warrior heart…
“Cassian has sent a firefly down the River Styx every year for you, hoping that you could find peace,” Nesta told Maya, because she knew Cassian would want his mother to know that. “So, I’m going to try something. And if it works, promise me that you’ll be at Empyr next year. We’ll be there and your son will put you to rest.”
“I promise,” Maya whispered. “Will you tell Cassian that—” She swallowed, gathering herself. “Will you tell my warrior heart that I never regretted him, not once. He was the best thing in my life, the best choice I ever made.”
“Of course,” Nesta replied immediately. Her throat was so clogged with emotion that her voice trembled, because she knew those words would destroy Cassian. Because he’d thought he was a product of something non-consensual and she knew it ate him alive every day to think of the pain that it had caused his mother. “I promise.”
Then, Nesta clasped Maya’s hands and let go of her magic.
It flowed out of Nesta with the urgency that came with something that had been suppressed for too long. It gushed out of her, like water breaking through a damn, until it understood that it was not escaping but being let free.
Silver streamed out of Nesta and into Maya: death meeting death, like calling to like.
Slowly Maya’s body strengthened in colour, her body transforming into something more—so much so that Nesta could see the tears tracking down the Illyrian’s cheeks, the relief stark and blessed.
Then, Maya’s body erupted into flames.
For a second, through the roaring of her fire, Nesta could see an image of who Maya had once been. Beautiful and fierce and strong. A female who had only ever dared to love. A female who had fought for what was right, even though it had resulted in great hardship.
But she’d made Cassian. Had loved her youngling so much that she’d taken the best of the bad options available to her. She’d known her son would grow up in the most brutal of circumstances. That he’d be small and alone and treated with contempt by his own race.
It had all been because Maya thought Cassian could be star-born. That he might harbour the favour of the Old Gods, Oya and Enalius. And Maya had wanted a son who would be worthy of that status. So he could change the corruption and discrimination that festered like a disease amongst their race.
Kallon represented everything that was wrong with Illyria. He would strip the females of their rights, would brainwash them into thinking it was what their race needed. Other factions would suffer, too. The poor younglings who came into the world as a product of rape or joining outside of marriage. The widows, the orphans, those injured in war and unable to fight… All of them would suffer.
Never before had Nesta known quite so fiercely what her purpose was. So, she let her magic channel into Cassian’s mother and marvelled at the strength of her, until, finally, Maya was gone and Nesta was alone.
Fire retreated back into Nesta’s veins with a whispering sigh, until her magic grew quiet and sated.
The air beneath the Lake had grown colder with Maya’s absence, more lifeless. Nesta cast her gaze Above, to where Frawley was staring down into the water.
A bead of light was still flaring faintly at the witch’s palms and Nesta understood what it was now. It was a beacon. A sign. A method of communication to the friend she couldn’t see but hoped was there.
Keep an eye on your healing magic. Use it where you can—
Use it where you can.
It took far too long for Nesta to locate that tiny pearl of magic, that healing power that was no more than a tiny fleck of life inside of her. Nesta had to scour every crevice, every shadowed corner, but then there it was, its faint glow like a dying ember in the ashes.
And as Nesta coaxed that ember into something stronger—a brighter light—Nesta began to notice what she hadn’t before. Emotion, swelling from the ground, seeping into Nesta’s pores. They were a bustling crowd of memories from the souls who dwelled beneath the Lake: love and life and laughter, but also pain and grief and suffering.
And Nesta knew, somehow, that this was Maya’s last goodbye. Her thank you. She had summoned these souls to feed Nesta’s gifts, to fuel her magic until Nesta was wreathed in a light which was pure and startling and singing.
At the heart of it all, Nesta thought of Cassian. She thought of his smile, his laugh. The feel of his rough hands sliding across hers.
She thought of how much she loved him, how she wasn’t scared anymore. How a bond didn’t define their love, it never had.
It was that thought which lifted Nesta upwards, guiding her towards the sun—to the life Above.
Clouds are Shrouding us in Moments Unforgettable (Nessian Kinktober)
Cherry Pie: Part 5 - Nesta x Cassian
Nesta and Cassian have never been a couple that willingly deny themselves some action between the sheets. But when Cassian has to whip the Illyrian legions into shape for an entire week, as well as smooth out the disputes between unruly clans, Nesta and Cassian make a deal: no orgasms until they are reunited at the Spring Court to celebrate Calanmai.
But when Nesta eats some aphrodisiac-laced cherry pie whilst waiting for Cassian to arrive, the bargain they struck is immediately replaced with a base need for release. Nesta hurries to her room where she can finally be alone, but just as that orgasm begins to crest, Cassian catches her in the act.
And they had a deal, did they not?
Warnings: NSFW, Spanktober, Dom!Cassian being sexy AF, orgasm denial, Nesta high on aphrodisiac
This is part of the Cherry Pie: ACOTAR Kinktober Smut Extravaganza collection. Make sure to check out the rest of the collection and the other authors!
“It’s so beautiful,” Gwyn breathed, as she and Nesta turned to survey the sprawling estate before them. Elain and Lucien’s home sat amidst undulating slopes of green—a wide and stunning expanse of natural life that had been tamed into beauty. Up ahead, the gravel path they were standing on met a wide alabaster staircase, which climbed to a sweeping veranda framed with wisteria that hung like grapes on the vine.
Notes: Hello everyone, I’m so sorry for the delay between updates but please know that I intend to carry this fic through to the end! I love writing it and I’ve especially loved writing this chapter–I am so excited for you all to read it. I am really sorry for not replying to say many of your wonderful comments–I’m getting to that now–but please know every one of your comments makes my heart squeeze and motivates me to keep writing!
For any of you who haven’t seen, I’ve recently written a modern Nessian au called A Golden Opportunity. If you want some fluffy Nessian then go and have a read! Click here to read it!
Dedicating this chapter to @simpingfornestaarcheron and, of course, my beta @noirshadow for only adhering to Illyrian holidays and reading this over for me just before Christmas!
Chapter 46 Nesta’s POV
The kiss wasn’t like the others they’d shared. Cassian tasted of tears and desperation—of the warm relief brought by a shard of sunlight as it crept across shade. Like home.
Cassian’s mouth pressed firmly against Nesta’s. Lingered. Again. Again. Again. As if he couldn’t stop tasting her. Couldn’t stop reassuring himself it was her that was pressed against him, her body arched desperately into his, her hands knotted in his hair.
And every press of his lips wasn’t fuelled by desperate, grappling lust but the love that Nesta now realised had underpinned everything from the very beginning, even as it hid in the shadows.
so first and foremost thanks to @skychild29/@that-golden-lyre (the same dadrie in two different accounts) for beta-ing.
second thanks to all of you for support and encouragement!!
now. as i have mentioned this is my first time writing smut and i’m the girl who wrote a whole-ass nessian novel where they have three kids and no sex scene so this is like a big deal for me. so as a fair trade if you like it please let me know!!
okay enjoy!!
—
The thing about Cassian, Nesta learns, is that he is the most brilliant person in the world, but sometimes he acts like an idiot. Not because he is one, but because he likes to. Enjoys driving her absolutely spare with her antics. A quiet place to regain some sense of self the House of Wind is not.
Almost everything he says to her, he says to infuriate. She’s constantly lashing out at him, and he bites right back, taunting her to decibels she’s never reached in her life before. And when it’s not to turn her mad, it’s teasing. Nesta picks up on his pattern quickly: when she is quiet and distant, when he fears she will fade into her pain and memory and drift away, he attacks. Anything to draw her out. But the teasing, the sexual inneundos and too-lingering gazes…those are when she is better. When she has enough presence of mind to focus on a book, when she comes back from a peaceful luncheon with her sisters.
It’s entirely unnerving, to learn just how clever he is. To have all of that military strategy focused on her. She feels him clock her every move, file away hesitations and stammers and hisses and quietudes to dissect. So it does not take her long to find a house of her own.
Notes:Hi everyone, thanks for being so patient for the next update. I really hope you like this chapter, it was so lovely to write (mainly because it’s been such a long time coming!) Let me know what you think–and please reblog if you enjoy it :)
I know a lot of you have been asking (very nicely!) when you might expect updates from now on. I promise I won’t be abandoning this fic, but it’s more likely to be three week/monthly updates from now on (blame my current workload!) I’m also working on a second chapter of my modern AU A Golden Opportunity so expect a Nesta POV from that in the future.
Have a great Sunday!
Chapter 47 Nesta
The stew was shared and eaten, but neither Nesta or Cassian were thinking of the food by the time the spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl.
Everything in Nesta had turned hyper-aware, as if her body had fine-tuned itself to feel everything of Cassian: his breath skimming the shell of her ear as he spoke. The reverberation of his chest against her back. The lazy, burning journey of his thumb as it swept a repetitive path at the juncture of her thigh as it met her hip.
Tension had existed between them before, but this sensation, this acute reaction to Cassian’s touch, was so off the charts that it had created its own new scale.
It’s ok to hate the main character and consequently most of the series but still love it for the side character that carries the story emotionally and makes it relatable because they are not perfect and neither are you.
Notes: Hello everyone, I’m so sorry for the delay between updates but please know that I intend to carry this fic through to the end! I love writing it and I’ve especially loved writing this chapter–I am so excited for you all to read it. I am really sorry for not replying to say many of your wonderful comments–I’m getting to that now–but please know every one of your comments makes my heart squeeze and motivates me to keep writing!
For any of you who haven’t seen, I’ve recently written a modern Nessian au called A Golden Opportunity. If you want some fluffy Nessian then go and have a read! Click here to read it!
Dedicating this chapter to @simpingfornestaarcheron and, of course, my beta @noirshadow for only adhering to Illyrian holidays and reading this over for me just before Christmas!
Chapter 46 Nesta’s POV
The kiss wasn’t like the others they’d shared. Cassian tasted of tears and desperation—of the warm relief brought by a shard of sunlight as it crept across shade. Like home.
Cassian’s mouth pressed firmly against Nesta’s. Lingered. Again. Again. Again. As if he couldn’t stop tasting her. Couldn’t stop reassuring himself it was her that was pressed against him, her body arched desperately into his, her hands knotted in his hair.
And every press of his lips wasn’t fuelled by desperate, grappling lust but the love that Nesta now realised had underpinned everything from the very beginning, even as it hid in the shadows.
