A Court Of Shadow and Blood

☆ Full Bloom ☆

Sweat slicked her skin, an almost unbearable amount of heat beating down on her. Before them—her and Morrigan—Cassian and Rhysand sparred, Azriel off on some mission. They were shirtless, muscles gleaming in the sun as their swords darted forward in lightning movements. Eblis watched with fascination as Rhysand’s arm rippled and the long blade he held slashed against Cassian’s block. 

“Why is it so hot out here,” Morrigan moaned. Eblis sighed in response, sliding further into the shade of a small, stretched piece of fabric. The relief was immense. “And why do we have to watch the grown bat boys spar?”

Cassian said, through his teeth, “You were supposed to be sparring with us.” His hair was plastered against his forehead even though it had been pulled back into a tight bun. The tattoos on his shoulders—Illyrian tattoos, proving his strength and resilience—twisted with his movements. Sparks flew. 

“Sparring with you and Rhysand? What, like a threesome?” 

Eblis sputtered a laugh, Mor grinning as even Rhysand faltered in his movements with a startled cough. Cassian took the opening with an efficiency honed through centuries of bloodshed, even as he grinned.

“It can be whatever you want, Morrigan,” he replied, the strike of steel on steel almost drowning out the sultry warning. “I’ll beat your ass either way.” 

Mor stuck out her tongue.

Cassian mimed the movement, even as his eyes were solely focused on Rhysand’s movements. She bit her lip, trying not to smile. To see them act so relaxed was strange, even more so as her brother and the General fought with live steel, not bothering to stop even for the sharpest of nicks and cuts. It was dangerous, and beautifully deadly, and Morrigan had stuck her tongue out at him despite how very lethally he sparred. 

“Don’t look so surprised, Eblis.” She startled, straightening as Cassian addressed her. “Morrigan is just as petulant now as she was when we were younger.” 

“Oh, bug off.” Mor leaned back despite the challenge in his voice, taking a sip of some cold, lemony concoction. She wasn’t sure if there was alcohol in it or not. 

Rhysand lunged, and said, “That’s your only comeback, cousin?” Cassian took a step back, wings flaring for balance even as he advanced on the male once more. 

“Of course it is,” Cassian said for her, between one pant and the next. Eblis suddenly realized they were egging her on, trying to get her to spar with them. Mor stiffened beside her. It was working, apparently. 

“You’re tearing up the grass.” Eblis turned to the new voice, flapping her shirt against her chest for any breath of a breeze. She paused as she found Amren; a loose shirt cut off at her navel and some short pants cladded her olive skin gracefully. She didn’t seem the least bit hot as her dark curtain of hair was tucked behind sharp ears. “Why are you sparring on the lawn and not at the Estate or even the House of Wind? Too lazy to walk now?” 

A wide circle of grass in the lawn of the Townhouse was scuffed, some clods of dirt churned up from blades parried sharply enough that they slid into the ground. Neither of the males seemed to care about it, nor Amren’s taunt. 

Cassian bared his teeth in an estimation of a grin. “We were thinking about tearing up the grass here anyway. Feyre wanted that pond from the Summer Court right? With the koi fish?”

Rhysand rolled his eyes good naturedly. “She had a chance to implement it while designing the Estate.” He then called a halt in the sparring, their blades falling apart instantly. Rhysand gulped down cold water, much as Cassian did. “Was there something you needed, Amren?”