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“And that, brothers,” Cassian said with a flourish, “is how you win a snowball fight.” Naked as newborns, Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel piled into the wood-paneled birchin of the holiday cabin, the magic of it filling the space with layers of thick steam. Cassian made straight for the bench lining the furthest wall, settling himself down and splaying his wings on either side of him with a sigh.
Azriel was next through the door, shadows dancing as he stepped in just far enough to clear the doorway, letting the heat wash over him where he stood. The dusting of snow in his dark hair faded with the moisture, though his cheeks were still pinked from the cold.
Rhys was last to enter, stars in his eyes and wings out for all to see as he groaned, looking almost euphoric as the warmth hit him.
“It’s worth having to put up with your bragging ass just to get out of the cold,” his High Lord quipped as he shut the door, taking a spot beside Cassian on the bench. As he leaned back against the wall, Rhys’s wing brushed against his own in just a whisper of a touch, and fuck if the feeling didn’t go straight to his cock.
With a cough, Cass tucked his wings just enough to be out of reach of his brother’s. Rhys’s eyes were closed as he let the steam graze over him, but by the look Azriel gave him from across the space, the spymaster had missed nothing. Cassian only shot him a smirk.
It was his hundredth-something win of the annual Solstice snowball war (the fuck if he kept count), and the adrenaline still rode in Cassian’s blood. Unfortunately for him, he knew exactly what would take the edge off, making it all that much harder to keep a handle on his arousal at the sight of Azriel’s bare and tattooed chest, of Rhys’s powerful build and taloned wings.
He’d hold himself at bay, though. He didn’t particularly enjoy being shoved out of the birchin just for getting hard. Such a thing did happen every few Solstices when one of the brothers couldn’t keep it together; Cassian remembers laughing himself hoarse a few years ago as he and Az had tugged Rhys by the arms to the doorway after the scent of his arousal had mingled with the steam. Rhys had fought jokingly against their hold, but he’d been laughing too.
Cass smiled at the memory, looking back to Azriel in time to see the shadowsinger make his way towards the bench, the barest hint of a grin toying at his mouth.
Cassian’s nostrils flared as he caught on to Az’s intentions, and he stared daggers at his brother as Azriel slid himself into the spot right beside Cassian, the muscles in his back and the velvet of his wings pressing against the sensitive membrane of Cassian’s own wing and leaving him panting through his nose to keep himself steady.
Once beside him, Az proceeded to shift his weight around in an exaggeration of getting settled, each movement sending a sucker punch of pleasure below Cassian’s abdomen. Only once finished with that shit did Azriel deign to meet his gaze. Cassian had expected the sharp-edged humor he found in those hazel eyes.
The surprise came when he spotted, beneath the teasing, a darkened flare of lust betrayed by blown-wide pupils.
Cassian’s breath shook as he fought for self-control. So this was his punishment for taking the snowball fight from between Azriel’s scarred hands after he’d been in the lead for most of the morning, always a risk given Az’s competitive nature. He knew his brother could be a tough bastard, had been on the receiving end of his revenge plenty, but this was a different kind of payback.
Seeing the understanding light on his features, Azriel looked away with a smirk. Beside them, Rhys’s eyes were still closed, his High Lord staying perhaps willingly oblivious to the situation. Cassian held tight to the lingering control he still held over his arousal. He could make it through as it was, but if Az decided to pull any more shit–
Muscles shifted against his wing once more as the spymaster readjusted his position to one where his legs were spread wide, simultaneously pressing his thigh flush against Cassian’s, the slide of skin dangerously close to the place where all his blood was poised to gather, and giving him a view of exactly what waited below his brother’s abs.
With a curse, Cassian shot to his feet and away from Azriel’s tormenting, but the damage was already done. His cock ached as it hardened below his waist, on display for both of his brothers with not a single layer to block it from view. Even if he hadn’t been fully exposed, the scent of his arousal filled the small space in moments.
Rhys, who had woken from his doze with the commotion, gave Cassian a slow smirk once he’d turned back around to face them. “The win getting to your head, Cass?”
Azriel smirked, spreading his legs a touch wider under Cassian’s glare.
“ Asshole,” Cassian hissed in his direction before addressing Rhys, “Az is just pissy that he lost. I’d like to see you try to keep your shit together with him practically fondling your wing.” The last part came out as a grumble. Cass knew he sounded like a whining child, but the Mother knew he wasn’t about to accept that this was his fault.
Rhysand only raised an eyebrow at this, the effect of the gesture undermined slightly by a line of sweat trailing down his face. That eyebrow only climbed higher when his nostrils flared, catching a new scent in the steam.
It hit Cassian a moment later, and he snapped his head to where Azriel still sat, legs open. Doing nothing to hide his now-erect cock, the size of it enough to make Cassian wonder exactly how it would feel–
“Don’t tell me I have to throw both of you out myself,” Rhysand laughed, though his easy tone failed to mask the full extent of his surprise. In all of the Solstice afternoons spent in the birchin, never once had Azriel been the one to lose his hold on himself. Cassian knew the control Azriel possessed, knew him enough to know that this was no accidental slip.
Azriel’s eyes were liquid as he turned to face Rhys. His voice was a low grate that slid down Cassian’s spine as he murmured, “Or we could toss you out the door, and Cass and I could have the birchin to ourselves.”
Cassian watched as the words landed. Rhys’s brows furrowed, holding there for a beat, and then rose as he canted his head to the side. A smirk curled into being on his full lips, the shape of them one Cassian wouldn’t mind putting his own to. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on the Solstice festivities.”
So they were doing this. Cassian thought he might burst out of his skin as he eyed the swirling ink coating his brothers’ chests, allowing himself to picture the scene he’d been pressing down since his youth. The two males he loved most in the world tangled with him, with each other, learning perhaps the only pieces of themselves still left to be shared.
Azriel made the first move, rising swiftly from his languid state to step behind Cassian, trailing a finger up his side as he murmured, “Since you did win the fight, I suppose you get to tell us how this goes.”
The sound Cassian made, prompted both by the scrape of Azriel’s baritone in his ear and the idea of having both of his brothers focused on him, of getting to decide exactly how this plays out, was not quite one he was proud of.
He cleared his throat, flushing a bit before reaching to grip Azriel’s wrist where his hand had slid up to tangle in his hair. Giving it a squeeze, he said, “I want you to stay exactly where you are.”
The responding push he felt against his backside let him know that Az had nothing against this particular plan.
Meeting Rhys’s violet gaze from where he sat in front of him, now hard, Cassian asked, “Are you good to be on the receiving end of this?”
“As long as I don’t have to stand up,” his High Lord purred, his teeth flashing against his lip.
Cassian’s mouth dried out at the implication. “You sure?”
Rhysand gave only a savage grin, spreading his legs wide to give Cassian room to stand between them as his wings vanished behind him.
Cassian ached to go to him, but he caught himself while he still had some grasp on his rational mind. “So we’re all good with this? Any limits to what you’re up for?” His brothers had shared multiple conversations on the importance of consent, one of the many things he loved about them. If Cassian hadn’t been the one to ask, they would’ve spoken up.
“I’d appreciate nothing with my wings.” Az’s reply was steady, cool against his shoulder.
Cassian squeezed his wrist once more as he nodded, looking at Rhys next.
“No complaints with my current position. I know how to swallow,” Rhys said with a wink. “You?”
Cassian considered. “I’m all good with my wings being touched. But go easy on my hair if you tug on it,” he directed at Az, whose hand still curled in the damp strands at his neck. “If anything gets too much, tap twice.” That message was for all of them.
Az hummed in agreement as Rhys dipped his chin.
The sight of that gods-damned mouth bobbing up and down with the motion tugged Cassian forward. Azriel walked with him as he went to Rhys, coming to a stop between his spread legs. The insignia of the Night Court was stretched by the bend where it was inked on each of Rhysand’s kneecaps.
“So that’s why you’re not getting on your knees,” Cassian joked, trying to calm the wave that rose in him as he looked down at that devastating face, those full lips of his only inches from his cock.
“Be too much of an asshole, and I may be tempted to bite it clean off.” Rhys’s eyes were locked on where Cassian’s cock jutted upwards, sweat lining each of his abs.
“I’m not sure he’d quite mind the biting part.” The voice Azriel used was as low as Cass had ever heard it. The hand playing in his hair ran down his back, the moisture gathered there letting it glide as it joined the other on his hips. Cass didn’t bother recalling how his brother knew this particular preference of his as Azriel gripped his hips and pressed against him once more, harder than he had the first time. Cassian groaned at the strength of it, the sound a plea to cut the shit and get started.
Hearing his impatience, Rhys, thank the fucking Mother, took no time pulling a jar of liquid from wherever-the-fuck-magic-realm and tossing it to Az, who took a scarred hand from Cass’s hip to catch it. The sound of the jar’s metal lid hitting the floor made Cassian’s cock twitch, his anticipation almost painful.
That particular motion was not one missed by Rhysand. He caught Cassian’s gaze and held it steady as he brought a hand to his mouth, running a tongue along each of his fingers. Once finished, he poised that hand above Cassian’s cock, raising an eyebrow in request.
Cassian could only nod, his eyes stuck fast to Rhysand’s hand as his pointer finger dipped to brush against the head of him, the touch so featherlight that Cass almost couldn’t stand it. That finger traced a curving line on Cassian’s skin, and he had no control over the way his hips arced toward the sensation.
The motion pulled a smile to Rhys’s lips, and Cassian only stared as he wrapped all five fingers around him and pumped slowly, the pressure enough to make his eyes roll back.
It was at that moment that Azriel’s fingers, slicked with the liquid Rhys had tossed to him, gave their first brush against Cassian’s ass. The slide was coaxing in a way Cass didn’t often know Az to be, but hurried enough that he knew he’d soon get what he was waiting for.
Rhys maintained that slow pump on him as Azriel’s fingers worked away. Cassian knew why Rhysand was denying him a faster pace; he wanted Cass to still have something left by the time Az pushed into him and Rhys’s mouth got to work. He was grateful for it, sure, but even knowing the reasoning, it was difficult to keep from begging for something faster, harder, from either of his brothers.
Only once Az had gotten a second finger into him, spreading the moisture against him with small circles, did Rhysand lower his mouth toward Cassian. With his hand still in place, he pressed his tongue flat against Cassian’s head, sliding it broadly across him while his hand gave a swift, squeezing pump.
Cassian tossed his head back, and Rhys’s tongue grazed him a second time, the touch only serving to make Cassian’s need grow. He looked back down to find his brother’s violet eyes locked on his. Only once their eyes connected did Rhys pull his hand away with a final pump and bring his lips around Cassian’s tip, sliding teeth against him in a punishing scrape.
Cassian’s snarl was a cry for his vanishing sanity. Azriel’s third finger inside of him nearly made him buck against Rhys, but he managed to keep still, not wanting to do any damage to that pretty mouth.
“Ready for me?” Azriel’s question feathered against his sweaty neck, paired with a swift pump of fingers.
Cassian nodded urgently. “Please,” he breathed on an exhale. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait a moment longer without losing his–
Rhys’s eyes met Azriel’s over his shoulder for an instant, and then both males were moving, Rhysand’s mouth sliding to take him in as Azriel pushed up into him, and into him, so deep that Cassian nearly questioned his choice to have the shadowsinger be the one behind him.
Rhys, for his part, worked him with enough aching perfection that Cassian envied each and every lover who’d been blessed with the feel of that fucking mouth of his against them. His lips slid over him, tongue flicking just enough to set him alight. The teeth he pressed against him sent all reason sliding from Cassian’s mind in an instant. He was burning with pleasure, sounds ripping from his throat as sweat dripped from him in the heat.
And that was all before Azriel started thrusting.
His first motion into Cassian could have sent him to his knees. Scarred hands gripped his waist once more as Azriel slid back for an instant, then eased himself deep, reaching the spot inside Cassian that had him nearly screaming between clenched teeth.
Knowing that strength was hardly the most Az could give him, Cassian pressed a hand against the wood above Rhys’s head to brace himself, sliding the other into his High Lord’s hair while he worked.
For a second, all Cassian could focus on was keeping his feet beneath him as his brothers trapped him between pleasure on both sides. He wasn’t going to survive this, he decided. The feel of Rhys’s lips as they moved and Azriel’s cock pushing hard against him as his thrusts grew in strength was more than his mind could hold onto at once.
He braced against the wall as he felt Azriel pull out nearly to the tip before pushing into him far, sliding flush against that point of pleasure inside of him. The wood groaned under his hand as he tried to keep himself still for his High Lord’s sake, but his hips wouldn’t obey as Azriel seated fully in him, and his bucking rubbed him rough against Rhys’s throat.
He cursed as he looked down at Rhysand, hand still tangled in his hair, checking for any sign of discomfort, of hurt. Instead, his brother smirked around him, only sucking him down further.
It’s going to take more than that to hurt me, an inky voice purred in his mind.
Oh yeah? Is that a challenge? Cassain’s response was breathless even in his head. He supposed it was a miracle he could still remember words.
The echo of a dark chuckle was his only response before Rhys’s lips tightened on him, teeth gripping him hard, just this side of pleasure, just as Cassian liked it, all while Az thrust hard within him.
Cassian stopped holding himself back, wasn’t sure he could if he'd wanted to, as he let Az set the pace and arced into Rhysand’s throat with every thrust. Az became relentless, chasing his own release now as well as Cassian’s as he groaned deep in his chest.
Cass became acutely aware of the wall behind Rhysand as a particularly punishing motion almost sent his brother knocking against it. Easing his thrusts for just a moment, he slid the hand already snarled in Rhys’s hair to cup the back of his head, if only to keep him from slamming it into solid wood. In response, Rhys brought a hand to Cass’s outer thigh, brushing a thumb against it in thanks.
The simple gesture spoke of so much genuine care that Cassian lost it, becoming wild as he pushed into Rhysand’s mouth and rocked back against where Azriel drove into him.
He was close. He was so fucking close that his balls were tight with it, that one more whisper of a touch against that spot inside of him–
“Rhys,” he warned, gripping the back of his head tight. “ Rhys, I’m going to–” Words failed him at another push of a tongue on his head. Mother’s tits, his brother really did want to swallow that shit.
It was then that Azriel, the damn bastard, after pulling out so far he was hardly still inside of him, moved one hand off Cassian's hip. He had only an instant to prepare before the spymaster traced a searing line directly onto the most sensitive membrane of his wing, pairing the gesture with a thrust that landed so deep in him that he moaned without care of who was there to hear him, the sound practically a whine.
The additional sensation sent Cassian straight over the edge, and he slammed Rhysand against that damned wall as he ruptured, all the liquid that shot from him going straight down his brother’s throat. Rhys led him through it like he did this shit daily, both hands gripping Cassian’s thighs as his teeth and tongue met his twitching length, his throat working.
Azriel’s finger stayed moving on his wing, the shadowsinger snarling like a starved creature while Cass spasmed around him. Fingers knotted in his hair once more as Az eased his head back, gentle to mind the boundary he’d set.
The teeth that met Cassian’s neck showed no such restraint, the pleasure in it sending Cassian whimpering in his ravished state. Crazed sorts of thrusts found him now as Azriel teetered on the edge, and all it took was one more pulse from Cassian as his orgasm finally spent itself for Azriel to find his own. Cassian’s knees almost buckled as Azriel’s semen filled him, rivers of it running down his thighs as the spymaster’s cock pulsed.
Only Rhysand’s grip on him kept Cass on his feet as Azriel’s groans reverberated against his back. Az’s hands found Cassian’s shoulders as he stilled within him, and for the next moment, breathing was all either brother could do.
Cassian was trembling, wrecked from what he’d just experienced, how fucking good it had felt. He still needed the support of his hand braced against the wall, so he slid his other from Rhysand’s hair to grip the hand Azriel held on his shoulder, squeezing his scarred fingers before bringing the back of it to his mouth, pressing the ridges of healed-over skin with a gentle kiss.
It was a moment before Az responded, landing a swift press of lips on the back of his neck, the motion almost forceful. Cassian could feel the hesitant nature of it; since he’d met him, Azriel had struggled with the softer parts of loving and being loved, making Cassian all the more grateful for the gestures he did receive from his brother.
With that, Azriel took back his hand, another rush of liquid gracing Cassian’s thighs as he pulled out of him fully. Rhys, Cauldron bless him, was already passing forward a hand towel, which Azriel made quick work of using to clean them both up, the fabric almost overwhelming against Cassian's still-sensitive skin. Once finished, Azriel vanished the towel in shadow the same way he'd done with the jar of liquid.
After a final deep breath, Cassian turned, lowering himself onto the bench beside Rhysand. Azriel remained standing before them, his shadows moving sluggishly around his form in a way that Cassian assumed was due to the pleasure he’d found.
Which reminded him, abruptly, of who hadn’t found release from this arrangement. He turned quickly to Rhys, who’s cock still stood erect between his muscled thighs. He opened his mouth to offer his brother some kind of… well he wasn’t sure what he could offer him with the fucked-out state he was currently in.
Before he could decide what the hell he wanted to say, Azriel was already stepping forward. He stood over Rhysand for just a moment, who looked up with parted lips to meet his gaze. Then, with no further ceremony, the shadowsinger dropped to his knees.
“ Azriel, ” Rhysand breathed, fully gaping now. Cassian might have been too for all he knew, the image he’d held of his brother slowly morphing to fit this new side of him.
Az gave no response to the shock as he placed a scarred hand on each of Rhysand’s thighs before gently lowering his mouth between them. He stopped before his lips made contact, hovering tauntingly close as his eyes flicked up to Rhys for the go-ahead.
The High Lord’s mouth still hung open, eyes wide as Azriel considered him. He stayed like that for a beat before remembering himself, lips closing to sketch a disbelieving grin. He regarded Az, and Cass could almost watch his mind try to piece together what the hell the spymaster was waiting for through a haze of thrilled surprise. He nodded vigorously once the understanding clicked.
Azriel still didn’t move, unconvinced by Rhysand’s hesitation. “Say it for me?”
The erotic flow of the spymaster’s voice paired with the request would’ve had Cassian begging had he been the recipient, so the way the reply tumbled from his brother’s lips came as no shock to him.
“Yes. Please. Oh, gods, yes.” Rhys’s voice was hoarse with desire.
Az’s smirk was a slow thing as it formed. “Good.”
The praise was a lingering caress even Cassian could feel as the shadowsinger leaned in, lips meeting Rhysand’s smooth tip.
The first pump of his mouth had the High Lord reaching out to grip both sides of Azriel’s head in fists. His hips made to buck, but Az had them pinned in a moment, leaving him helpless. Judging by the groaning, Rhysand was getting as good as he gave.
Cassian wasn’t sure he should be watching this. He tried to turn his head away, but his eyes were stuck fast to the way Az’s lips were moving, the way Rhysand’s head tipped back, the way his hips were held fast under Azriel’s grip as Rhys desperately tried to push them forward.
Mother above, Azriel must be absolutely wrecking him with the way Rhysand was breaking apart. He supposed, with Azriel the only one of them who preferred solely males, that he would’ve had the most practice. Though perhaps Cassian had been just as wild when he’d been between them both, the fuck if he had half a mind to know.
Azriel maintained a silent face throughout the ordeal, though his enjoyment could still be seen in what he failed to hide. Cass marked how loosely his shadows were wound around him, the wings that flared slightly at each sound from the male above him.
Cassian’s attention was pulled to Rhys as his front jerked forward, arcing over the spymaster’s form as his hips were still held at bay. Azriel must’ve just done something particularly wicked to warrant a reaction like that.
It was insanity for Cassian to sit like this, in the steam of the birchin where they’d spent so many Solstices, and watch his brother utterly lose his mind in this way. He couldn’t get his head around it, understand how they’d even gotten here, how he’d gotten so fucking lucky.
Before him, his High Lord began to tremble, tension lining every limb of that muscle-sculpted form. Cassian could see from here he was close, really fucking close. Rhys fisted his hands harder in Azriel’s hair, urgent groans– no, those were fully moans now– wrenching from him as he tried to communicate with the shadowsinger after words had fled his mind.
Azriel’s response was a deep and throaty rumble, the sound an understanding and a clear indication that he wasn’t going anywhere. Cassian knew exactly how a sound like that would travel from the spymaster’s particular vantage point, so it was no shock when Rhysand roared, his body twitching as he came.
Only at that feral sound did Azriel move his hands to free Rhys from their restraint, gripping instead on the wooden edge of the bench to either side of his thighs. Hips finally set loose, Rhys thrust wildly, his control mist in the wind as he bucked and bucked into Azriel, the force behind the movement more than most people could handle down the throat.
But Cassian could see the shadowsinger’s filthy little grin where he was still wrapped around Rhysand, knew his brother enough, could’ve guessed even from what he just watched, to know this is exactly how he’d wanted things.
Rhysand had only just stopped shuddering when his eyes went wide. He snapped his gaze to where Azriel was sliding off of him, the liquid he’d not managed to swallow dripping shamelessly down his chin.
“Are you hurt?” The words were rushed, the first thing Rhys wished to know once he drifted back down from the land of the Mother. Concern and shame swirled in those violet eyes, shame at his loss of control even when every damned male on the continent would have done the same at the hands of Azriel with half the concern.
The spymaster only laughed, the sound a roll of thunder as he got to his feet, swiping a wrist across the liquid on his chin. “No, Rhysand. No,” He repeated more seriously as he stood above the male once more. He dropped a hand to his shoulder. “You didn’t hurt me.”
The stars returned to the High Lord’s eyes as he heard the truth of the words, his eyelids falling to hood his gaze as he looked up. “Kiss me?” His voice was rough.
Azriel’s grin was something untamed, expecting a dirty press of mouths involving the liquid still coating his tongue as he leaned down to him, scarred hands landing on the bench on either side of Rhys’s thighs.
But the lips Rhysand met him with were tender, thankful, the love they all shared laced through the gesture. Azriel froze, the touch starkly different from what he’d expected, and his shadows hugged in tight around his shoulders as his wings tucked in surprise.
He held there for a moment, stone-still against Rhysand, eyes shut tight as he processed. Cassian waited for him to pull away and haul his armor back into place, as he had countless times when his brothers showed him love as raw as this.
Instead, the tension retreated a step from Az’s form, and he leaned into Rhys, returning the kiss as best he knew how. Sure, he was a bit stiff with it, but it was more affectionate than anything Cass had expected to see from his brother.
His eyes burned with emotion as he watched them. It took him a second to place exactly what it was, but once the name came to him he knew that was what had brought the tears to his eyes. Pride. He was proud of his brother, proud of Az for not pulling away from the touch the way his instincts told him to, vulnerable as it was.
They were both aware, Rhysand and him, that the shadowsinger had been hurt, and hurt badly, in ways that left more scars than just the ones on his hands. It was why they didn’t push it when he shirked from hugs, or clenched his jaw on a response when they told him they loved him.
Despite the pain he carried, Cass and Rhys knew he loved them both with a fervor that met if not surpassed either of their own feelings. And so, they did what they could to ensure Az knew he was in a place where he was safe enough to show it.
What Cassian was seeing now was undeniable progress, and it made his heart ache to watch. He swiped at the tear that slid down his cheek; he didn’t want to make Az more uncomfortable than that which he was already facing.
Before him, Rhysand also looked near tears as he moved his lips against the shadowsinger’s gently, seeing how far he could take this moment. Azriel’s brow was furrowed, but his wings had opened a bit, shadows falling out of their tight swirl on his shoulders.
The hand Rhys slipped in his hair proved to be too much. Azriel pulled his head back sharply, drawing himself up to full height and stalking to take a seat beside Cassian once more while avoiding Rhysand’s gaze. His cold mask was already back in place by the time he sat down.
On his other side, the High Lord had a hand on his mouth, blinking away the emotion that clouded his eyes. He took a deep breath in, regaining composure of his own. Cassian brought a hand to the back of the male’s neck and squeezed, grounding him.
Rhys dragged his swagger back to himself after a moment, and he turned to Cassian with a grin. “Enjoy the show?”
Cassian knew he didn’t mean the kiss. That was something they would likely never speak about.
“Who knew you were such a fan of getting sucked?” The humor in Cassian’s tone was more than what was necessary for the jab, but he wanted to bring the energy back to something easy, at least for Az’s sake.
Rhys caught on to what he was trying to do, barking a laugh. “Now you know what you’ll be doing for me when I win next year’s fight,” he said in a mock of a bedroom voice, humor in his eyes as he leaned in to lick the side of Cassian’s jaw.
He let go of his brother’s neck to shove him away by the shoulder, wiping the saliva from his jaw with the other hand to redistribute it to Rhysand’s chest. Now that was a move pulled straight out of their boyhood. “So it’s a tradition now, huh?”
“Fucking better be.” That cold voice didn’t belong to Rhysand. Cass pivoted to face Azriel, who’d been sitting silently these past few moments, eyes leagues away as he stared through the thinning steam. Having shaken off whatever he’d been grappling with, his brother now watched him, expressionless.
Cassian kept his grin intact for the shadowsinger even as relief filled him. He’d been worried that Az would be lost for a long while after what’d happened, as he often was when something rattled him.
“And what would you have us do for you, Az, should you be crowned winner?” Rhys turned his chest to where Cass’s back was facing him as he spoke, leaning on him to get closer to the spymaster while also subtly rubbing against him once, transferring the fucking spit from his chest back onto Cassian. Prick.
Azriel’s only response was a midnight grin, and eyes that spoke of a different sort of torture than that which he subjected the Night Court’s enemies to. Cassian’s blood burned at the idea.
“You two can worry about that if I ever let you win again. With this as the prize, I’m not sure I’m ready to give up the crown.” Cassian turned to face forward once more, hooking both arms around his brothers’ shoulders, wanting to be close to them for as long as this moment could last.
Rhys leaned against him. “We’ll see about that next year,” he said in a yawn.
“Next year,” Cassian repeated. He meant it.