A Court of Fated Demons

Chapter 1

It was becoming harder. Looking at her was becoming a lot fucking harder.

The rain was howling, bleating down on the emerald-tiled roof of the sprawling river estate. Azriel's family were getting ready to feast on sizzling meats and buttery pastries, silent in their feverish anticipation for breakfast. 

Feyre, to no surprise, perched on Rhys' lap to his left, his brother's nose nuzzling the spot behind Feyre's ear. Az had specifically asked his shadows not to eavesdrop on the dirty nothings they were whispering. Table manners, apparently, were to be damned after the war.

Az understood it, though. They almost lost each other. All of them. Again. His chest warmed, deeply, when he thought of how Rhys' eyes dampened anytime he'd catch Feyre giggling at something Cassian sniped. 

And now that Cassian and Nesta were finally doing ... whatever it is they're doing, there's been more than enough times Az has caught Cass' slight brush of the hand on Nesta's cheek, or a strand of his hair she needed to tuck behind his ear.

The sprawling river estate had become a gods-damned love-nest, which was why meals like this were becoming especially torturous. And that's saying something, since Azriel had been tortured – professionally – at the hands of his biological brothers. Pieces of shit, worthless nothings compared to his chosen brothers.

Yet, when Elain's molten-hazel eyes met his from directly across the table, Az could've sworn she saw his slight inhale. Could've sworn Nesta smirked at the miniscule draft of air whooshing from his lungs. This feeling – it was completely new, and it scared the living shit out of him.

There was Mor, and in the beginning, he had loved her. Loved her for hundreds and hundreds of years. But the rejections, the intentional flirting with Cassian when Az was near, and passive aggressive "sleeping with other males after his feelings scared her" had hurt. Touched that festering wound, that fear of being unlovable. Eventually, she made his heart ache in different ways... damaging ways. 

It wasn't until that first night, at Feyre's father's house, did another female – woman at the time – make him feel something. Elain-

"...zriel! Can you hear me?! Hello? Earth-to-Az!"

Cassian's droning pulled him from his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Cass. What did you say"?

Cass caught his eye and smirked as if he knew exactly where Az's mind had gone.

"I asked what you were doing today". Bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing today... what they were doing today.

"He's taking me to the mainland" Elain replied, eyeing Az to make sure he was still on-board. When he nodded, she beamed and added, "We're to help some of the towns learn how to properly plant and farm crops for the incoming winter".

Feyre and Nesta bore their eyes into their plates, retreating far into the depths of those dark winter nights. Az realized he'll never know what it was like for them, to be feral with hunger. Death, pacing at their doorstep, ravenous himself to carry their too-boney bodies into the afterlife. Both Rhysand and Cassian's eyes swelled with some unnamed emotion.

"You still want to leave at noon?" he asked, hoping to bring Feyre and Nesta back.

Her nod sent a heady thrill of anticipation whipping down his spine at the thought of winnowing her to the mainland. Her plush curves, flush against his abdomen. Elain's lemon and lilac scent drifting up his nose, intoxicating his brain...

If he didn't get ahold of himself, this trip was going to be painful. In many ways...

A heavy knock at the door stripped him from this thoughts.

"It's Lucien" Elain grimaced. 

He let himself in.

Without so much as a glance in his direction, Feyre muttered "you came".

"Was I not supposed to?" Lucien glared at her.

All three Illyrians tensed at the unspoken challenge. Feyre merely drummed her fingers against Rhys' knee and continued:

"I didn't know where we stood after the Gala" her teeth rattled in unspoken fury.

The gods-damned Gala.

"That's why I came here tonight" Lucien supplied. "I want to apologize. What I did was wrong, and I know that".

Feyre softened. She cared about Lucien, no matter how intricate their relationship, no matter his ties with Tamlin.

"I'm listening" Feyre supplied.

Elain cleared her throat. Nesta bore her eyes into Lucien's face. The need to protect both her sisters from his presence didn't go unnoticed.

"Feyre, I'm sorry about the Gala. It wasn't my intention to hurt you or ruin your night. I made a bad judgement call, and I'm sorry".

"You snuck Tamlin into my party, you both got shit-faced drunk, and then proceeded to make the night a living hell for everyone involved"

Rhysand started to vibrate in rage. If not for Az and Cassian, Tamlin would've been shredded to bits. Tamlin and Lucien, if not for Elain as well.

"I know, and I'm so sorry, Feyre. I'm sorry to everyone. I didn't mean to ruin your birthday party. Tamlin swore up-and-down he would be civil, that he just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I believed him, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry". Lucien's voice thickened with regret.

Azriel recalled the night of the Gala. Remembered the way Cassian and Nesta ripped Tamlin from the plush ballroom, Nesta dragging him out by his hair. Tamlin's drunken cries for Feyre. Feyre, staring wide-eyed in-shock at the scene unfolding before her. Rhysand, obsidian rage unleashing from behind him, restraining to pulverize Tamlin.

Azriel remembered Elain's reaction, too. Her looking at Lucien in stark disappointment. Again and again, Lucien chose his friend from the Spring Court.

Azriel knew Elain understood it, had always understood the need to save a friend, a sibling. He did too. But she had her own sister to protect, and Lucien had threatened that.

And Azriel? Well, he had his own reasons for disliking Lucien.

"Lucien, I will never give you an ultimatum. You will always, always have a choice here. But when it comes to Tamlin, I don't ever want what happened at the Gala to happen again. If it does, I will not forgive so easily". Feyre's hand started to tremble. Rhysand gently laid his on top.

"Understood". Azriel could see Lucien's guilt starting to grip him. Feyre had seen it too.

"Alright". End of conversation.

"Well, let's eat then!" Cassian barked, attempting to break the tension.

Lucien sat at the head of the table, still uncomfortable with their court's informality.

Azriel stiffened when he gave Elain a quick grin.

"Hope there's room for one more" Mor chirped from the stairwell.

Thunder lashed at the windows, rain now pelting itself onto the roof.

A nasty storm brewing indeed.