Illyrian Bonds

7

A/N: So sorry about the update delay, but hopefully an 8-page update will make you still love me. Enjoy, you filth lovers. ;) Leave me all ur thoughts in the comments I love reading your reactions so much.

Feyre woke with a dramatic gasp, her bare ass stinging from the handprint now branded into it. Warm, wide hands gripped the flesh there, massaging and soothing the burn. Cassian had a goofy grin plastered on his face as he stood above her, the perfect picture of a greek god.

One curl fell down his forehead, an escaped strand from the bun he typically wore in that dark hair of his. His hazel eyes danced with mischief as he bent to plant a smacking kiss on her temple. She groaned, rolling her face into the pillows. It was still dim in the room, letting her know it was incredibly early. She'd gotten used to the routine of waking up in bed alone, all three males masochistic in their incessant need to be early risers.

"Go away," Feyre griped, voice muffled by the pillow it was currently shoved into. A sharp pain on her opposite ass cheek as Cassian sank his teeth into it, leaving a bite mark imprinted on her skin. She shrieked, rolling over to limit his access to his continual abuse of her ass.

"Just look so delicious, had to take a bite," he smirked. She glared at him, eyes throwing daggers. He just grinned wider, only spurred further by her lack of cooperation. He was a stubborn bastard; she'd give him that.

"Is there a reason you've woken me up before it is humane to do so?" He cackled at her complaint, moving to the closet, disappearing for a moment, and coming back out, pulling a white tee shirt over his head, the fabric hugging his shredded torso in a way that felt intoxicating to look at.

Gods, she needed to get a grip. None of them had made a move on her since Azriel had buried himself inside her days ago. The marks he'd left had begun to fade, and Feyre hated to admit the sad tug it caused in her chest.

It wasn't for lack of desire, not on Feyre's part anyway. Every time she'd slunk into their dim room in a skimpy lace nightgown or some frilly underthing, they'd all smiled and told her she was beautiful, but promptly fell asleep. She was ready to admit it was frustrating. If these Illyrians wanted to play games, she'd just need to play harder. She would get her way one way or another.

"I'm taking you with me today while I work," he said. "No more sitting around staring at walls." She could have killed him with the amount of ire in her eyes. That same big, goofy grin was plastered across his face. He was a sadist.

"What does that entail?"

"Get dressed and find out, little mouse," he taunted, wiggling his eyebrows at her as he vanished into the bathroom, and she heard the faucet turn on. He came back to lean in the doorway, brushing his teeth.

"Now," he growled, the white bubbles of toothpaste at the corners of his mouth and his voice muffled by his toothbrush. She huffed, throwing back the blanket and stomping into the closet.

She pulled on a pair of leggings and a long sleeve tee shirt of Rhys' and pulled running shoes on. She wasn't sure what Cassian was making her do today, but she knew she would want to be comfortable and that it was also highly likely he had her doing some form of exercise by the end of it. So better to be prepared than not.

Cassian flew them further into the snow-capped mountains that loomed in the distance from their townhouse in Velaris. He didn't really talk much the whole flight but held her pressed tightly into his chiseled and broad chest. She could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through his shirt and into hers.

Landing in some form of outdoor training area, her eyes landed on the sparring males, stomach dropping to her ass at the realization that they all had towering wings like Cassian's. Illyrians. He had taken her to Illyria.