Head Tilts, Stepping Out From The Shadows. Features Are Indifferent, Movements Slow, As He Plucks The

head tilts, stepping out from the shadows. features are indifferent, movements slow, as he plucks the blade from the ground ... he handles elain as a timid mouse, afraid any abrupt movements will only send her running. doesn't everyone? perhaps that's why she's chosen to train in secret, at night with no witnesses. they'd treat her as if she's made of glass, ready to crack apart & break. " if you wish, " the dagger spins between fingers, before rhysand hands it back. " we can arrange actual training sessions. " shoulders shrug, humming softly. " although, i cannot imagine nesta would be too glad to hear of it ... at night may be our best option to avoid her wrath. "

❛ you’re braver than you think. ❜ from @rhysie

Elain looked up from her training, suddenly shy at being caught 'after-hours'. She wasn't as bold as Nesta to ask Cassian to train her, and god forbid either of her sisters saw her. Elain wasn't...ready to prove to them she was strong enough on her own yet. They always worried. If they knew about this, she could only imagine their shock. Tossing the dagger into the ground, Elain toed at the ground. "I want to protect them too" She finally stated, looking back up at the high lord. "Which means I have to overcome those fears. . ." A sigh, and she offers him a sheepish smile. "But thank you. I don't think anyone has ever called me brave before"

🐝 🐝 you're bee-utiful! pass this along to five writers to bring the sunshine in && give friendship a bloom!

THIS IS SO CUTE WTF!! i am simply looking at ur blog from afar ... admiring ...

he savors every gasp, the way she surrenders herself fully, how soft her skin feels under his calloused touch. it’s everything he’s dreamed of for months, all of the ways he has imagined just touching her. & somehow better, like they were made for just this. any apprehension has dissipated, replaced with sheer focus on only pleasing her. fingers work slowly as they explore her, memorizing every inch, stopping just below her breast. tauntingly, his strokes are light, refusing to go any higher until she tells him exactly what she wants — as if she didn’t already have him at her complete disposal, wrapped around her finger. “ what is it that you want, feyre darling? ”

the sigh as feyre ventures downward is muffled against her throat, nipping at flesh before his tongue soothes the hurt. his hips move closer, pressing against her until her hand lacks the space to move. he won’t allow himself to have her — not like this. in a bed that’s too small, with too many secrets lingering between them, still so uncertain where they even stand. his attention is fully on her, every kiss trailing up her neck a symbol of worship.

his mouth stops at her jawline, finger circling around her nipple before his palm swallows the size of her breast. voice is a gentle purr, casual & cool despite him feeling anything but. “ tell me what you want. ” after all this time of pining, of convincing himself she would never feel the same, he needs to hear it: that she wants him, too.

as our eyes met, something in me settled as i accepted the truth that had been hanging over me for months. for once, i didn’t run from it, as i stared into his striking, violet eyes. the same eyes that followed me wherever i went, as they crept into my dreams and had taken over my whole world. i’d chosen this gladly and without regret — to stay here, on the run with him, rather than turning back and returning to a life that could never really serve me. i finally chose me. and him. and whatever laid ahead of us. whatever it was, i knew i could face it. the same way i faced lucien earlier today. with rhys offering his constant support.

my hands continued to run over his strong arms absentmindedly, only stopping as he spoke. “ that’s your weakness? cold hands? i didn’t know you were such a — ” my words were cut off by the breathy gasp that escaped me, as his mouth marked a spot on my neck and his hand slipped under the sweatshirt that belonged to him. his grasp was full of proprietary intent. i melted like putty in his hands as they roamed over my body. my head tilted back, elongating my neck to give him more access to my throat. his touch ignited me fully as i finally succumbed and allowed myself to throw caution to the wind, giving in to the need that had plagued me.

i remembered how to breathe, if just barely, and regained control of my body, as one of my legs entangled itself around his. one of my hands gripped his broad shoulder, before running down the length of his torso, slowing carefully as i neared his waistband. my body arched towards him, desperate for further exploration. “ i want — ” i could barley think, let alone get the words out. “ i need— ”

jaw clenches, the only indication of his fleeting patience. there once was a time he'd relish in this. the gilded prince, now utterly alone. known only as a rabid beast. there's a large part in rhys that still wishes to take pride in this, to see him so beaten down ... hopeless. after the death of his family, what he put feyre through — forgiveness would never be an option. but the newborn waiting for him back home is a reminder : peace in prythian is not as far away as it once seemed. whatever mercy he must show to achieve that, it's worth it.

" feyre only sped up the process. you lost your people the second you decided to make a deal with hybern. " words are snapped out, unpolished. with a breath, he regains composure, eyes flickering around the mansion. it's desolate, practically in pieces. any light & wonder faded. " no one will bow to a beast. clean yourself up, tamlin. "

long nails dig at the arm of his chair. it's hard to ignore the sting --------- not about the rumors or his court ; the sting that rhys is the one checking on him. not feyre. not lucien. rhys. the one he'd once called friend. the one he'd betrayed. he's not surprised that rhys turned out good at the core. he's also not surprised he himself turned out to be bad. it's something he's always known ; always buried. everyone else was just now catching up. better they all stay far away.

❛   check on me or gloat ? i can never tell. ❜ might as well make the last person on his list hate him. cool gaze falls back towards the nightling , a brow raising. ❛   my people are fleeing. joining other courts. feyre made sure they wouldn't stay loyal here. with no court to bow to , who can blame them ? guess you'll have more people in your court. ❜

@feydarling : '  i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.  '

this was not their happy ending they deserved. with everything up in the air, so much uncertainty ... their family that has just begun, dangling on a thread. feyre's fury, her unrelenting pain, the only thing he ever feels through their bond anymore. it vibrates through his entire being, haunting him every second. his desire to take it all away, shoulder it for the both of them — it's what got them here to begin with. he knows her anger is not only at him, but their cruel fate. a shared death looming over them, their impending doom.

but with the sincerity in her voice, her bedside confession lacking fire but instead sounding so defeated, he knows that's not what she's talking about. after spending so long trying to build her up, to help her regain her voice ... he took it away. it's not lost on him. their last few days have been strenuous bouts of silence, as she gathers her thoughts. he practically jumps at the abruptness of her words, the only thing he's heard besides small talk. he won't let her pain be swept under the rug, pretending like everything is okay. leaving her to her own devices & figure it out on her own. if she needs to spend the rest of their days yelling at him, she can.

he shifts, sitting up to press his back against the backboard. swallows the growing lump in his throat, as he searches for any words he hasn't said before, anything to remedy this. " i was a fool. feyre, it is killing me that you feel this way. that i am the cause of it. that i could ever make you feel as you don't have a voice. "

; & just like the rain, you cast the DUST into nothing, & wash out the salt from my hands. so touch me again, i feel my SHADOW dissolving, will you cleanse me with pleasure ?

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independent A Z R I E L from a court of thorns and roses series. loved by hannah | 18+ content | credit