Fae Courts Echoes of the Elderglen

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Asher blinked, watching her storm away, her golden eyes ablaze with something dark and dangerous. He felt it. Felt her rage, her hurt, her insecurity through the bond that pulsed between them. And fuck—it both hurt and ignited something deep inside him.

She was jealous. Over him.

It was fucking hot.


His fingers twitched. He hadn't planned on stopping her, but before he could think better of it, his body moved on instinct.

"Hey."

He reached, catching her wrist and pulling her back against his bare chest, his arm curled around her waist, holding her there. Close. Close enough that she’d feel every sharp line of his body, every ragged breath he exhaled. His green eyes burned as they locked onto hers.

"While jealousy might suit you," he murmured, voice low, "you have absolutely nothing to be jealous of."

His fingers trailed up, gentle despite the roughness in his tone, until he tilted her chin up. His thumb brushed the sharp angle of her jaw, tracing over her skin with a reverence that contradicted the tension in his grip.

"I don’t care how long this takes," he said, voice like gravel, "but know that I will never look at another female in that way again." He leaned in, their breaths tangling. "It’s you, Vess. Just you."

And then he did what he shouldn’t have. What he’d been holding himself back from.

He kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was raw, claiming, meant to sear the truth into her bones. His hand slid up to cup the back of her neck, fingers threading into her damp hair as he deepened it. As if he could chase away every ounce of doubt with the way his lips moved against hers, the way he drank her in like she was the only thing that existed in this fucked up world.

The bathhouse went silent.

He didn’t care.

He kissed her like she was his. Because she was.
 
  • Melting
Reactions: Vespera
A hand wrapped around Vespera’s wrist and she flinched. She hadn’t expected Ash to stop her. Hadn’t expected him to pull her back with such a force that she stumbled right into his chest. Still bare. Still warm. Solid.

She should have pushed him away, torn her wrist from his grip and spun on her heel, leaving him to stand there in the middle of the bathhouse, dripping wet and alone. Let the girls stare and whisper at that sight.

But she didn’t do that.

Because the moment he forced his green eyes to lock onto her golden, her traitorous body forgot how to move. She was nothing but a thundering pulse, breath hitching, and that horrible, ugly thing that had taken root inside her- the jealous possessiveness- coiled tighter, drinking in every word he murmured.

Just you, Vess.

She wanted to believe him, gods she wanted that so badly. But she didn’t. That hurt part of her, the part that had spent ninety-four years being compared, judged, dismissed, called less, sneered at by females like them, whispered otherwise.

You’re nothing like them. The voice in her head snapped. They’re better. Prettier. Wanted.

The bond roared in response, a visceral and desperate thing that screamed mine over and over again. So when his lips came crashing into hers, she let them. Let the fire consume her. Let the tension melt into something reckless, uncontrollable, and fucking dangerous.

The kiss wasn’t soft nor was it tentative. It was starved and consuming. A kiss meant to claim as fingers tangled into her hair, fisting it and pulling her closer like Ash could erase the very space between them entirely. And maybe he could, because a line was beginning to blur where he ended and she began.

She groaned softly into his mouth, losing herself completely, allowing her hands to roam with a will of their own- one trailing up the hard planes of his chest and the other..lower.

The felt the fabric beneath her fingers.

The towel.

One single tug, and he would be-

Her mind froze and she tore herself away, breathless, panting her heart slamming against her ribs. The silence of the bathhouse had startled her. She could feel every single pair of eyes on them, watching. Voices whispering.

Her face burned. And then she moved.

Her palm connected with his face, sharp and resounding. Impact sent a fresh shockwave through their invested audience, gasps rippling across the bathhouse. She was almost certain one of the females would offer to take care of whatever she had just done.

Her chest was heaving. “What the fuck was that?” She hissed, golden eyes wild, burning. A mix of anger, humiliation and something too raw and familiar flooding through her body.

She didn’t wait for an answer either. She shoed him back with both hands and stormed towards the exit, her own towel barely clinging to her frame.

If she stayed even a second longer, she wasn’t sure if she was going to kiss him again or kill him.
 
  • Ooof
Reactions: Asher
Asher barely had time to process the sting before the sharp sound of the slap had fully registered. His head snapped to the side, his jaw aching from the force of it. Gasps echoed through the bathhouse, but he didn't care.

Because fuck, she had kissed him back.

Not just kissed him—she had melted into it, groaned against his mouth, touched him with a desperation that set his entire body ablaze. He could still feel the ghost of her fingers trailing down his chest, pausing just at the towel.

He exhaled hard, rolling his jaw as he watched her storm off, golden eyes wild, towel barely hanging onto her frame. His body was still thrumming, every nerve ending screaming at him to go after her.

His hand lifted, fingers brushing over his cheek where she'd struck him. It fucking burned. But gods, so did everything else.

He let out a low, rough laugh. "Yeah, I deserved that," he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his damp hair.

The fae females in the pool were still watching—some with wide eyes, others with barely concealed amusement. One of them, a particularly bold one, started to rise, lips parting like she was about to offer something.

Asher shot her a look so sharp, so full of unfiltered possession that she froze mid-motion and quickly sank back into the water.

Then, without another glance, he strode (at a safe distance) after Vespera.

The room was silent, empty except for the two of them. Asher let out a heavy breath and sank into a chair, raking a hand through his damp hair as he watched Vespera disappear behind the vanity screen.

He exhaled sharply, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he admitted, his voice low, rough with regret. “I was just… trying to make a point.” A humourless huff left him as he dragged a hand down his face. “And I did it very badly.”

"I'm sorry, Vess. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
 
  • Melting
Reactions: Vespera
As soon as she stormed into the changing room, she yanked her towel off and threw it over the top of the divider at Ash, as if the towel had personally offended her. She didn't even know what she was more pissed off about- the fact that Ash had kissed her in public like she was some conquest to be flaunted, or the fact that she had kissed him back with no intent on stopping, like she was desperate and eager to be claimed.

Gods.

Her fingers worked too fast, too rough, fumbling with her clothing with angry, choppy and horribly uncoordinated movements.

The jealousy, ugly irrational, suffocating jealousy, still burned like acid inside her chest.

Those females. They knew his name. Why?

The rational part of her mind whispered that it wasn't her place to care. Of course they knew him. Ash was older, experienced, and had probably had plenty of females in his bed. Had probably loved plenty of women before he'd been forced to share a bond with her. But that did not matter to her.

She had seen the way they looked at him. Unashamed. Expectant. And even though her sense of smell was nowhere near as strong as the full-blooded fae, she realized with a sickening clarity now, that she could tell. There had been others in his bed. Maybe even quite recently, though she didn't notice any scent except Ash and the earth at his little shelter.

It should not have bothered her. They weren't even... What exactly were they? She didn't know. But it did bother her.

Vespera inhaled sharply, trying to force the racing thoughts from her mind as she snatched one of her new outfits from the tailor and shoved herself into it. It was strangely soft in color- a dusty rose and ivory. Far different from the practical browns and deep leafy greens she wore to blend into the Elderglen. Feminine. That was how it looked to her. It had her hesitating for a moment before pulling it on, adjusting the way the fabric settled on her frame.

Her hair was damp, falling in loose waves over her shoulders, and without thinking, she brushed some over her left ear, forcing the strands to hide the jagged and marred ear.

By the time Ash next spoke, low and regretful, almost sheepishly, she was already tying the last ribbon.

I shouldn't have done that. I was just trying to make a point...And I did it very badly.

Yeah, no shit. She rolled her eyes and stepped out from behind the screen.

I'm sorry, Vess. I didn't mean to embarrass you.

Her golden eyes flicked over him- hair still damp, muscles tense, bruises still present and not miraculously healed by sticking his cock in some perfect dark-haired female. For the first time since the kiss, she met his gaze fully, unwavering as she responded.

"Well," She said flatly, folding her arms over her chest. "You've made your point perfectly." Her head tilted slightly, voice still deceptively calm. "I have absolutely no control over the bond." She knew he wasn't referring to that, but she had to admit it. And she hated knowing that she spoke the truth. She had wanted to stop, she should have stopped.

Speaking more to herself than anything as she swiped at the hair covering her ear again, "If we hadn't been in public...If I hadn't remembered where we were..." Her fingers twitched. "I don't think I would have." She shook her head and forced the thoughts from her mind.

"You said drinks." She turned away, pulling on her boots. "Lets get drinks."

Maybe if she got drunk enough, she wouldn't still feel the sickening burn of jealousy sitting like a boulder in her stomach.
 
  • Spoon Cry
Reactions: Asher
Asher sat still, his head bowed as she spoke, accepting her anger without protest. He deserved it. Every word. But when she admitted that she had no control over the bond, something inside him twisted, sharp and aching. His gaze lifted to hers, sorrowful, just for a moment, before he dropped it again, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

Pain lanced through him.

He knew what she meant. Knew that if they hadn’t been in public, if she hadn’t pulled away—fuck, he wouldn’t have stopped either. He wasn’t sure he even could have. And that terrified him. Not because he didn’t want her - he did, very much. But because he didn’t want to take away her choice, didn’t want to be another force in her life that stripped her of control.

Didn’t want to be something she regretted.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice low, raw. He couldn’t look at her. “I won’t do anything like that again…” His brow furrowed, fingers curling. Even if I want to. Even if it kills me. He exhaled, slow and steady, forcing the weight in his chest to settle.

“Drinks,” he echoed distantly.

Maybe if he drank enough, he wouldn’t still feel the phantom warmth of her against him, wouldn’t still taste the kiss they had both lost themselves in.

"I'll meet you outside." he rumbled quietly, suddenly quite aware that he was still in a towel.
 
  • Spoon Cry
Reactions: Vespera
She didn't respond to his apology, not out loud at least. But something in his words pained her because part of her knew the truth that she was not ready to admit, not to him, maybe not even to herself. She did want him to do it again. Just not there. Not in a crowded bathhouse with a herd of onlookers. And not yet.

Her golden eyes flickered over him one last time, his fingers curled into fists, brow furrowed, eyes avoiding her like he couldn't bear to meet them. Something ached in her chest, but she swallowed it down, giving him only a short, sharp nod before she turned on her heel and left him to dress. She remained outside, arms crossed tightly over her chest, evening air cooling the fire in her blood. The town had shifted since the day. It was alive in its own way- music spilling from nearby taverns, laughter echoing in the streets, the smell of honeyed ale thick in the air. It was a far cry from the Elderglen. She didn't hate it.

She could still feel his tough, though. Could still feel his fingers on her jaw and the burning in his eyes before he kissed her. Vespera exhaled, rolling her shoulders as if she could shake away the feeling entirely. By the time Ash had emerged, clad in dark, simple clothing that somehow made him look even more unfairly attractive, she had mostly composed herself. Mostly.



A shifty little tavern was only a short walk from where Ash had planned to rent a room or two. It was so lively. Dimly lit, filled with the scent of cheap alcohol, sweat and the telltale smoke of something far stronger than pipe tobacco curling in the air. It was perfect.

But jealousy still ate at her, festering like an open wound. Ugly, irrational and incredibly stupid. But she didn't care. If he could have females calling his name like sirens drawing a sailor to their demise, then she could make him suffer a little, too.

Not to mention, it was much more cost effective.

She straightened slightly as she sat at the bar, shifting just enough to catch the attention of the male sitting a few seats down. Dark-haired, broad-shouldered, and clearly enjoying his fourth or fifth drink of the night. His gaze flickered to hers, interest sparking immediately. Perfect. She offered him a slow, easy smile, and within seconds the bartender was setting a drink down in front of her- courtesy of the male at the end of the bar.

She lifted her glass, tilting her head just enough for him to see the glimmer in her eyes. "Very kind of you." She said, taking a sip. The stranger grinned, clearly emboldened. But before she could set the glass down, a second drink appeared. A second male this time. Reddish-haired, sharp eyed, leaning against a pillar a few feet away. Watching her with much less of a casual interest.

"Two in a row." She mused to Ash, who had been sitting beside her. "I must be lucky tonight." Two drinks for free, but certainly not the first nor second she had already tossed back for courage.
 
  • Cthulhoo rage
Reactions: Asher
Asher sat beside her, pressing two coins onto the bar with the quiet ease of habit. But before he could order, a drink was already set in front of her. His brows pulled together in brief, oblivious confusion—until he caught the way she smiled, the slow, easy kind she rarely gave. And then he followed her gaze.

Dark-haired, broad-shouldered. Staring at her with open interest.

Something cold and sharp slammed into his ribs.

Another drink appeared. Another male.

White-hot rage lanced through him, tangling with the ache in his chest. He hadn't meant to make her jealous. He hadn’t been toying with her. This, though—this was cruel. But hey, he was used to cruelty, he should have learned by now to expect it.

His lips curled into something humourless as he exhaled a quiet, bitter laugh under his breath. “Lucky,” he murmured, nodding once.

He turned to look at her for the first time since she’d been dressed, and it nearly knocked the air from his lungs. The colours suited her. He hated how easily that thought slipped into his mind, how effortlessly she stole his breath, no matter what she did.

His jaw tensed, his chest burned, but still, his voice was quiet when he said, “Well. I can’t say I blame them.” His eyes flickered over her one last time, softer now, edged in something he didn’t dare name. “You do look really beautiful tonight.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. "Enjoy your night, Vess."

The words rumbled from his chest, raw and tired, pain overriding the anger. If this was what she wanted—to bask in the attention of other males, to remind him that she had the power to hurt him—he wouldn’t stop her. He wouldn't take her choices from her, even if it killed him.

His jaw locked, his eyes burned, but still, he forced a smile before he turned to leave.
 
  • Spoon Cry
Reactions: Vespera
Vespera watched him go, her own smile forced and barely holding against the icy cold creeping into her chest. She had wanted a reaction, wanted to see him snap the way she had when those females called out to him, had wanted him, had known him in a way more intimate than she had ever known him. But this? This coldness?

It felt so much worse.

She swallowed hard, hand gripping the glass tight. Something in him had shifted before he left. Something dark and burning. Had that been the same feeling that twisted in side her at the bathhouse? Gods, she hoped so.

But he hadn't stayed and suffered, letting her ride out whatever grudge she was holding. He left her there, sitting between two males who suddenly felt insufferable. Their eyes on her now made her skin crawl. Their attention, their laughter, the way the leaned in just enough made her realize that this wasn't fun anymore.

But Vespera was nothing if not stubborn. She had started this. She would see it through.

And so, she drank.

And drank.

And drank.

The warmth of the tavern blurred around her, voices fading into a dull hum. Firelight flickered, shifting in and out of focus as drinks kept coming, as the floor beneath her chair began to sway. Everything felt too heavy and too light all at once. She had never been a drinker and this was why.

By the time she had managed to stumble out of the tavern a few hours later, the cool air hit her like a punch to the stomach. She barely made it a few steps before she had to grip onto a nearby post, head swimming and knees weak beneath her.

"Shit."

Everything felt so slow. Her movements, her thoughts, even the way the cobblestone tilted beneath her feet. But she had been fine, had been laughing, her head warm and light above it all. But a shadow moved beside her. "Leaving so soon?" The voice was smooth and casual. Vespera turned her head- or at least, she thought she might have- but the world blurred and spun, and she nearly toppled sideways. A strong hand caught her elbow before she could fall. The male from inside.

Vespera blinked hard, trying to focus on him, trying to see through the haze of alcohol.

"You sure you don't want another drink? Or maybe..somewhere quieter?" There was a heavy suggestion to his words, one that made her stomach twist. Vespera shook her head, or had tried to. The motion blurred the ground beneath her feet and before she could stop herself, before a steady hand could catch her, her foot caught on the uneven stone. She lurched forward, hands flying out to catch herself.

Pain. Sharp and stinging in her knee. Vespera hissed, wincing as she looked down where blood welled against her skin. Thankfully it had only been a shallow cut from the jagged street.

She took a breath and lifted her gaze to respond, but the male was gone. Completely gone. As if he'd never been there at all. Her drunken mind scrambled to process what had happened. One moment he'd been right there, and the next- nothing. Just an empty street, a flickering lantern and the distant murmur of laughter in the tavern.

A strange cold sensation trickled down her spine, her hair standing at its ends. She didn't linger. Somehow, she had made it to the inn, her body moving on instinct, feet dragging against the stone as she reached the door. It was a fucking miracle that she'd made it. Even more of a miracle that the door was unlocked.

Thank the gods. She pushed it open. Too hard. Fuck.

The floor rose up to meet her, cool wood pressing against her burning skin as she sprawled out across it, staring up into the ceiling of the dark room. Her limbs felt leaden. Her knee stung. The world was still spinning. But she had made it.