Ten years after accepting the mating bond, Elain is having visions that are both foreboding and devastating, which has begun to drive a wedge between her and Lucien. Elain's visions are accompanied by a mysterious and sinister voice, taunting her with her worst fears. Her strength to resist its constant attempts to isolate her from her loved ones is waning... and she isn't sure how much longer she can ignore the whispering inside her mind. Meanwhile, Lucien's mother has finally decided the time has come to leave Autumn behind. With help from Eris, Lucien and his friends help his mother reunite with Helion. In doing so, Helion finally learns the truth about who Lucien is to him. Beron rages after his discovery that his wife has left him. His response is rash and drastic, causing all seven courts of Prythian to take notice-and action.

Eternal: (adj.) Lasting or existing forever; without end or beginning Athanasia never complained about her situation. She never felt like she had the right to. A random event leads her to befriend a small boy. A boy that she believed she would never see again. His situation was heartbreaking, she knew that there are others that are more unfortunate just like him. However, this one encounter changes everything she expected of herself, gave her freedom when the world only wants to swallow her up. --- "Why are you doing this? Why are you befriending me? Though we met five hundred years ago, why do you still bring me into your life? So much can happen in that many years but instead of staying with your friends or finding other things to do, you're with me. Why?" I ask again. Though I don't like being so forward, I can't help it. I'm scared to hurt him. He shifts his gaze to me. His hazel eyes gleam into my blue ones as if he knows something that I don't. "You're right. I had five hundred years, five hundred years to stay with my friends and five hundred years to find other hobbies." He pauses, taking in breath. "But I had five hundred years without you, we only had two weeks together. And those two weeks were the best I've ever had. That's why I want to continue them-with you, Athy." --- Disclaimer: All ACOTAR characters and plot belong to Sarah J. Maas. My characters and scenes are my own work.

|| Highest ranking: #9 in protection ⚔️ #1 in A Court Of Thorns and Roses🌹 #7 in Sarah J Maas 🧝🏼‍♀️ || "What?" Rhys asked, frowning at Mor. She shrugged, "by the looks of it, your going to be a father soon." Darkness exploded through the room. Cutting out my vision, it seeped through the windows, blocking out any visible light. Calloused hands pressed down against my shoulders, holding me in place. Soothing talons scraped down my mental barriers, trying to pry them open. I could feel his presence through the dark, feel the warmth of his body as he stood in front of me. The darkness subsided to uncover the violet stare of Rhysand eyes gazing down at me. Talons scraped at my mental walls once more before he spoke down our bond, Is this true? I looked to my mate, "Yes." He receded a few steps, stumbling over his words, "how?" "Well, when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much-" "HOW?" He snapped, cutting me off. Sighing, I relaxed my wings, exhausted from today's events, and let them slide to the floor. "A witch put a spell on me," I muttered, unable to make eye contact, "one which I think changed the year I was living in." *** Feyre is the Hight Lady of the Night Court. Living out her life, she thought it was going to be a prefect happily ever after with her only struggles being breaking the news to her mate about her pregnancy. Little did she know the darkness looming within the background, waiting to strike. When a witch appears on her door step, the last thing she would of expected was to be cursed to another year, before she ever existed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is a seperate novella spinoff of the acotar series. (DON'T NEED TO READ SERIES IN ORDER TO READ THIS BUT WILL HELP GREATLY IN UNDERSTANDING SOME SETTINGS, REFERENCES AND CHARACTER DEVELOPMENTS)

An Elucien Holiday Novella Lucien still didn't look at her. "I have spoken with Feyre. She, as you know, has spell-cleaving abilities - far greater than my own." Another deep shuddering breath. "And she has agreed to break our bond." Elain froze in her seat. Her mind wiped of all reason. Of all words. Lucien continued, "Tomorrow." Elain's heart stuttered. He finally met her eyes, and a warm smile spread on his lips. Warm and comforting and sincere. It made Elain sick. Lucien stood gracefully and held out his hand. Numbly, Elain placed her fingers in his palm. Then he raised her knuckles to his lips, just like a knight in one of the books that Nesta read to her as a girl. Just like a prince. Just like a gentleman. "Happy Solstice, Elain." And he left. *** All chapters uploaded 130 pages, approx 40 K words

Nyx watched his father at the head of the table, his palm resting gently on his mother's tattooed hand. Rhysand laughed at something Mor was saying, the sound pure and happy. Nyx stared with such intensity that it was noticed by the Inner Circle. His father turned to him, a small smile on his lips. He was so elated to have his son home once more. Nyx wanted to break something. "Are you real?" He whispered out loud. His father's smile faltered. Feyre tensed at her son's hoarse voice. He hadn't spoken since that morning, but then again that was nothing new. Nyx rarely spoke these days. "Nyx, my darling?" She asked softly. Nyx had only eyes for his father. "How can you stand it?" He asked, he sounded tired even to his own ears, "How can you sit there...and act happy?" His father sucked in a breath, and leaned closer as if to offer some sort of comfort. "I am happy, Nyx. I'm not pretending." Nyx flinched. Rhysand's face shattered. He stilled. Nyx watched him swallow. "I know what she's done to you..." Nyx said, "Amarantha told me exactly how she hurt you. She hurt me in the exact same way-" "Nyx," Feyre sniffed, "Please." "You cannot let her win, Nyx." Rhysand's voice was soft. "She can't win-" "But she has already won, dad." Nyx said, and there were tears running down his face. "She broke me." Rhysand shut his eyes tightly against the confession. The image of his baby boy in such agony- "I am so tired." Nyx said, "I don't want to live like this. She took everything from me. My wings. My freedom. My dignity. I just want to die-" "Stop." Feyre cried. "Please. Nyx. Stop. You don't mean that." Nyx finally turned to look at his mother. There was such understanding in her eyes. "What else is there?" He said before leaving the room entirely. # An old villain has risen from the dead with vengence on her mind. Nyx, the heir of Night, and Danae, the heir of Spring, shall pay for the sins of their fathers.

"I am bored, my Queen. So, entertain me." ~ * ~ Young Prince Lucien of Aesna is more suited for the countryside than the royal palace of fatal mind games and seasonal assassinations. Despite being shunned for being born to a palace maid, Lucien practices utmost loyalty as a soldier, leading battles for his country. That's until one day, he's captured and tortured as hostage, then used as a bargaining chip for Aesna's enemies to get back a valuable piece of land. But there is no bargain- Lucien, almost promptly, is given up by his own country. Years later a bloody coup breaks out between the two princes of Aesna, leaving all men of royal blood dead or crippled. With two neighboring countries waiting to pounce on the destabilized nation, the royal officials get back Prince Lucien in exchange for the land he was given up for. They welcome the prince as king, remembering the soft-hearted and naïve boy and ready to easily control him as puppet king with bribes, flattery and threats. But the man they put on the throne, is more madman than king, more beast than human, heralding another bloodbath in Aesna. ~ * ~ To avoid being forced to work as a bar girl, May lives as boy "Toma" in a small town of Aesna. But one day a man offers to pay off all her debts- in exchange for marrying him. Little does she know he's the mad, new king of Aesna. ~ * ~ His callused hand cupped the back of her head and lifted her face. He wasn't harsh, but he wasn't gentle, either. The smell of the wine on his breath was hot on her face. "...You yourself know the answer, sire." Lucien's eyes slipped from her eyes, to her lips. "Oh, do I?" he growled. His mouth swooped in without any tenderness, and his hand seized and tightened around the back of her neck, yanking her close to him. ** "Are you done, sire? Or do you order me to love you?" ** Started uploads: 5 Aug 2022 -1K: 12 chapters uploaded, 3 Nov 2022

Gwyneth had always felt connected to her faith, a higher power presiding over her. That faith had shaken that devastating day those years ago, the day that went on to haunt her every nightmare for years to come. She's still trying to come back from it, to not only restore her faith in life and love, but her faith in herself. The sanctity of her spirit- she prayed for resolve. Every punch was a prayer. Every mile was a hymn. Until her knuckles bled and her knees gave. Azriel had been surrounded by darkness his whole life, a poison on his world, on his being. He exercised restraint in his every waking moment, banishing that darkness within himself. Some guessed of the strain it put on him, but no one knew the extent of it, how deep his scars ran. It was better this way, he was sure. He had always thought that if there were a higher power- which he wholly doubted- such deities must loathe him to have burdened him such darkness. He hadn't much faith in the gods anyway, much less faith that he could sway their opinion on him. But Gwyneth and Azriel did have one thing in common: the quiet fight within themselves. They only knew one way: to go about it alone, couldn't fathom letting another in. But there's a magic in finding someone who is your equal but opposite, something transforming. And frankly, Gwyneth and Azriel could both use a little magic. All characters owned by SJM in the ACOTAR series. Story takes place after the events of ACOSF. Aligns with the events in my other fic: A Storm of Flames and Deceit. I haven't finished Crescent City, so this story takes place outside of the events of those books as well. CONTENT WARNING ⚠️ Mentions of r*pe, use of profanity, explicit content, sexual content, violence, torture, mentions of suicidal thoughts and depression, mentions of self harm

❛ a falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes ❜ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ "How . . ." She was at a loss for words. This was a dream, right? But if it was, how could she be feeling all of this? How could she feel his magic, or his touch, or the cool air of the corridor? None of it made sense. One of his hands raised, as though wanting to touch her face, but it hesitated before lowering. Some small part of Ana was left disappointed. "You're . . . you're here? How are you here?" Ana swallowed thickly. "I⎯I don't know. I thought I was . . . this is a dream. But then . . ." Realization dawned in his eyes. "Oh." Ana frowned. What did oh mean? "Shit." "What?" Ana asked. She needed answers. This was the second strange thing that had happened in four days. "Why are you saying shit? What's going on?" His hand wrapped around her wrist again and he pulled her through the darkness, away from the door. "She can't know about this. None of them can." "Who can't know about what?" Ana nearly stumbled over her footing, but her years of training kept her upright. "Tell me what's happening. Who even are you? How am I here?"

A completed Gwynriel mini-series w/ HOSAB spoilers 4 parts _____________________________________________ "Do you think she'll do it? Put all her bets on my theory?" Lifting his stare, Azriel arched a brow at Gwyn. "If it were your mate, wouldn't you risk everything even for the chance to reunite with them?" Gwyn's eyes softened, her wry smile becoming something gentle as she locked her gaze with Azriel's. "I would." "I would too," Azriel replied with a slow nod.

When she meets his eye, it's like those times when they glance at each other during training, when they're in perfect agreement for an extended, shining moment. Azriel extends his hand, his Siphon gleaming cobalt and his fingers bare even in this cold, the scars an intricate mark of whatever he himself has survived. "Welcome to the mission, Gwyn," he says, and Gwyn wants to savor it, the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers, his long fingers brushing her wrist. The approval she sees in those lovely eyes. She could swear she sees one of his shadows make its way up her arm. &&& While Azriel and Gwyn work to free Koschei's captives, attraction turns into something more.