Hi everyone :) This is my very first ACOTAR fanfiction, and is based in modern terms, simply because the series has not been completed and I'm eager to see where SJM takes them.

Azriel and Elain have been my favourite ship from ACOWAR, when we really started to see little pieces of them start to entwine. I have no idea which direction Sarah will take them now after Silver Flames, but I'm such an Elriel shipper that I'm just praying that they are endgame. (If you prefer Gwynriel, I respect that, so I hope that you respect my decision too)

This story is just for fun really, that's why I write all my stories. Because this is set in a completely different world to ACOTAR, it's allowed me to really explore how I view these characters, especially ones like Elain and Azriel who we really don't know anything about from the books. This has allowed me to be really creative with this story, and also to write their relationship together and their ties to the other characters in a way that I perceive them.

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me. They belong to SJM. This story is just for fun, I don't get anything out of writing it other than a chance to develop my skills and loose myself in a fictional world for a little while.

With that all out the way, I hope you enjoy this story! I can't wait for you to see how it develops.

~o~O~o~

"Shit!"

There was absolutely nothing that could be done to prevent the amount of icing that came shooting out of the piping bag. What would have been the most perfect little cupcake was now smothered under a mass of swirling blue chaos.

Placing the uncooperative bag down on the counter, Elain Archeron rubbed her temples in small circles with her fingers, counting to ten, which had become her go-to coping mechanism in stressful situations. It was slightly more successful than her former one of burying her head in the sand and simply wishing she could disappear into thin air.

"Everything okay?" The voice of her coworker, Briar, sounded from somewhere further down the counter to her left.

Elain opened her eyes, quickly assessing the carnage in front of her. "Sorry," She said quickly, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as she realised that even though she was in the back of the bakery, where there was little chance of a customer overhearing her outburst - especially with the soft music playing throughout the space - it certainly hadn't been her most professional moment.

Briar - who seemed to have endless patience and kindness for someone so young - gave her a sympathetic smile. "It happens to the best of us." Her bright blue eyes scanned Elain's face. "If something is bothering you, I'm sure that Rosa won't mind if -"

"It was just an accident." Elain said quickly, already cleaning up her disastrous attempt of icing. She had so many orders to get through already, she couldn't afford to let herself get lost in her thoughts as she'd just done. Even if her eyelids were weighing down more with each passing moment. Personal lives remained outside of work, and that included broken, awful sleeping patterns.

Without another word, she wiped down the surface and threw everything in the bin before setting to work on a new cupcake, this time ensuring that the amount of pressure she put on the piping bag wasn't going to lead to another explosion. Her hand grew steadier as she concentrated on her work, propelling her mind as far away from the thoughts that had clouded her mind, even if it made her head throb.

She'd long ago promised to never feel sorry for herself, and she refused to start now.

"Elain, Briar, would you come up front for a bit?" Their manager, a prickly woman on even the nicest of days, called in. Clearly, it was time for her to sneak out the back for a smoke, but as she was Rosa's cousin, no one questioned her. It wasn't worth it.

Although her order list certainly wouldn't get any smaller, Elain welcomed the break that standing behind the front counter would offer. Her hand was already starting to cramp from spending the last two hours icing and decorating the boxes of six cupcakes. Each order was completely different; in colour-theme, decoration and occasion. It seemed an awful lot of people had the desire their loved ones cupcakes this month, and although Elain knew she should be thankful for the demand - as it ensured she had a full week of hours - it didn't help soothe the aching muscles in her fingers from holding that damn piping bag for so long.

Briar was tying a new apron round her waist by the time Elain joined her at the main part of the bakery, where the display cases showed off the best of the bakery's creations. Wooden tables covered most of the space, each with four chairs, for customers who wished to spend an hour or two inside, making the most of the free wifi and relaxed vibe that the bakery had always had. That atmosphere had been part of the reason why Elain had fallen in love with this place in the first place. The fact it had given her an escape from her personal life was another.

"I can man the fort out here, if you'd rather get through those orders." Briar offered gently. She was an apprentice, and was still learning, which meant she wasn't given the tasks that Elain was of personalised orders. But, that didn't stifle Briar's enthusiasm. Instead, it seemed to feed it, as the girl was always eager to do anything to help the other staff members. "I saw your list."

That list that seemed to get longer every morning that Elain came in and checked it. She took pride in her work, and gave each cake or box of baked goodies her full creative attention - well, usually anyway - but sometimes, it was a little overwhelming that she was trusted with so many orders.

"It's fine, honestly." Elain said, as she stepped up behind the till and changed the system so she was logged in. "I like being out here. But, thank you."

That wasn't a lie. The bakery wasn't the only one in the street, but it was loved by all it's regular customers, which had been enough to give it a solid reputation amongst the locals. Elain enjoyed catching up with the regulars whenever they popped in. She immersed herself in their stories, about their holidays and their families, about their work and how their day had been. Although the conversations had to be brief in order to keep the line flowing, Elain listened to every single detail the customer gave her, and knew all the regular customers by name.

Her father had thought she was being ridiculous, when Elain had first brought up her idea of working here. The Archeron's had been sitting around the dining table, and she'd genuinely thought her father was going to choke on his mouthful of soup at her statement. Her father had been a businessman through and through, so he'd been no stranger to long days and getting his hands dirty, but his three daughters had never had to work a day in their lives, especially in such a mundane job.

Since the death of his wife, Sebastian Archeron had become obsessed with ensuring that his three daughters wanted for nothing. He had been a well-established businessman, referred to often as 'The Prince of Merchants', as he had owned several large jewelry stores dotted around neighbouring cities. So, when Elain had approached him about getting a summer job, he'd laughed and asked her why she felt the need, when she could have anything she wanted. She knew now, looking back, that he had probably felt as if she thought he had failed her, that he hadn't given her enough. The truth was, he had given them too much, surrounded them in such a facade of comfort and wealth that when it was all suddenly wiped away, the three daughters of one of the wealthiest families in the city had been plunged into the big wide world that they'd been sheltered from all their life.

Their father's gambling habits had remained a secret from them until it was too late, until he had taken things too far. In the end, an overdose had finished him, in a random hotel where he'd flaunted the rest of his money and practically handed over his wealth for more drink and drugs. His end had brought shame to their family name, but it was his gambling that had been the final nail in the coffin; everything that he had built, the empire he had forged for his daughters, was gone in the blink of an eye.

The three daughters had been given enough to coast through, once lawyers had dissected apart Sebestian Archeron's will. But, it certainly hadn't been enough to rely on for the rest of their lives.

Elain's youngest sister, Feyre, had been the first of the three to move out. With the money she'd been left, she'd bought herself a studio apartment, living above her workspace. Ever since she'd been old enough to hold a paintbrush, Feyre had been passionate about bringing things to life through colours splashed onto a canvas, and her natural skill had only blossomed further when she'd gotten older. She'd made a respectful business out of nothing, selling her art to high-paying bidders. Elain had not seen her studio for herself, but from the photos that Feyre had sent her, she knew it was a space that Feyre not only worked in, but one she cherished and was proud of.

Elain's older sister, Nesta, had excelled in school at dancing, and had certainly had enough tutors whilst growing up to ensure that her talent grew stronger every single year. Nesta was fiercely competitive, and was constantly pushing herself to take on more shows and performances than she could sometimes keep up with. Their father hadn't seemed to mind at all when Nesta had decided to go off to an expensive dance studio, but then again, Sebastian Archeron had known better than most that Nesta was best kept happy.

Nesta had impressed people with her natural-born talent, however it had certainly been their father's money that had allowed her to survive in such a competitive enviroment. Thankfully for her, when their wealth crumbled, Nesta had secured the interest of several companies which had fought over her.

Now, Nesta travelled the country, and Elain had a feeling that her sister avoided being home simply so she didn't have to come to terms with what had happened. Nesta had been outraged at the news of their father, calling him selfish and reckless, furious that he had done something so stupid that had left the three of them to try to salvage the mess he'd brought to their lives. Whenever Elain spoke to her sister, they never talked about him. It was if, in Nesta's world, he had never existed in the first place.

Sebastian Archeron had had a strained relationship with all his daughters. With Nesta, he gave her whatever she wanted to keep her temper at pay, because she'd inherited their mother's sharp tongue and attitude. Feyre, he had pushed more with her academic studies, simply because Feyre had never expressed an interest in such things that weren't artistically inclined. With Elain, Sebastian had always coddled her, like her mother had done.

Although he had certainly been appalled by Elain's request at first, Sebastian had somewhat reluctantly agreed that Elain would work the summer in the bakery. When their wealth disappeared and Elain's disastrous relationship had come to an end, Elain had practically begged Rosa for a part-time job, promising to work harder than any employee, to do the longer shifts and work overtime without pay, as long as she could secure a set amount of hours a week to pay for the bills on her apartment. Rosa had taken her in without hesitation, and Elain had never been able to repay her for that kindness, that chance of redeeming herself.

But, her wages from the bakery could never compare to their former wealth, and paying for the weekly bills and the food shopping took most of Elain's wages. Even now, as she worked full-time after three years of making ends meet, Elain's life was a completely different world from what it had been.

Suddenly, something sharp prodded into her side. Briar had elbowed her to get her attention, and Elain snapped back to the bakery, realising she had lost herself to her mind once again. "Oh my God!" The younger girl whispered.

Elain's brow furrowed as she tried to catch up to the present time, not memories that she could never change, never go back and try to prevent from happening. "What?" She asked in a low voice, as there was an elderly couple standing merely metres away surveying the selection of cakes on display through the glass counter in front of them.

"Tall Dark and Handsome," Briar told her, thankfully keeping her own words hushed to avoid them being overheard. "By the door,"

Elain rolled her eyes, because she knew full well that anyone that had brunette or black hair, was around six-feet tall and had a nice enough face was someone that fell into Briar's 'Tall Dark and Handsome' category. Of course, Briar was still barely older than sixteen, so Elain couldn't blame her for gushing over any man that came into the bakery that was somewhat attractive.

However, as Elain found herself looking towards the door to see for herself, she realised pretty quickly that it was a crime to even consider this man as being 'somewhat attractive'.

'Sinfully beautiful' didn't even seem to do him enough justice.

The man was indeed tall, probably a good foot and a half taller than Elain, and he had that presence about him that seemed to drain all the attention out of the room, making him the sole focus. His dark hair framed his face, curling slightly at the ends, as if shadows whispered into his ears. His tanned skin proved that he wasn't a local, as the city spent most of its days underneath a constant covering of clouds. Even though he was dressed in suit pants, a matching black shirt with the top few buttons left open, and a straight blazer that went down to his knees, his clothes did not disguise the fact that underneath all that material was probably a body that had been handcrafted by the gods of good-looks and muscle.

As the stranger walked across the room, he commanded such grace that it seemed that the whole world had paused to admire him. His eyes scanned his surroundings, and when they rested on Elain, she could see that they were a shade of brown, but because of the distance that lay between them, she couldn't determine anything specific. Still, his jawline was cutting even from far away, with the amount of stubble that even someone who didn't like facial hair could easily appreciate. Elain Archeron was one of those people, and right now, she most definitely appreciated it.

With such features of raw beauty, Elain was willing to bet her week's wages on the guess that his eyelashes were to die for. From her space behind the counter, she could make out a simple silver chain that hung from his neck, which was the only item of colour on his entire person. The rest of his outfit was entirely black, but the colour seemed to have been made for him.

He kept eye contact with her as he moved, his strides calculated and steady, reminding her of a panther on the prowl. Only when he turned his head to watch where he was going did oxygen find its way back to Elain's lungs, somewhat breaking out of her trance.

She forced herself to look away from him, and instead concentrated on the couple who had now made their way to the front of the till, waiting for her patiently.

"Mr and Mrs Marcus," She gave them both a genuine, friendly smile that settled the rapid pace of her heart. "How can I help you today?"

Mrs Marcus, her arm linked through her husbands' as it always was, returned the smile with equal warmth. "Elain, dear. So good to see you." The wrinkles surrounding her eyes crinkled with delight. Mrs Marcus had always struck Elain as someone who had been truly beautiful in her youth, and whose beauty had aged with her like wine rather than abandoning her. "I don't suppose you have any of the brownies left?"

A firm favourite order from these two, and Elain had already mentally checked the stock list when she'd first spotted them in the line. "I'll grab some fresh ones for you from the back." She promised, turning on her heels and heading back into the kitchen, towards the storage unit. Knowing exactly which flavours the Marcus' preferred, she made them up a box filled with chocolatey, gooey goodness, and sealed it shut with a pretty yellow ribbon.

When she returned, Mr Marcus asked gently, "How are things, love?"

The handsome stranger was now browsing through the display case, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. The cuff of his blazer was raised enough to showcase a Rolex watch that would probably buy him five of these bakeries, and still leave him money to burn.

Elain snapped her attention away from him, back to the lovely couple that were asking about her because they cared enough to listen. Still, despite the fact they had always been kind to her, Mr and Mrs Marcus certainly did not deserve to have to stand there while she told them her problems.

So, she kept her smile on her face, hoping it was convincing enough. "Everything is fine, thank you." Not even she believed herself, though, as she passed over the brownies with care.

The elderly couple continued to make light conversation as Elain sorted out their order. They told her all about how their dog, Blackjack, was getting on. Apparently, his joints were starting to catch up on him in his old age, but Mrs Marcus was determined that the supplement that their vet had given them would make their beloved pet feel ten years younger.

Elain had met Blackjack twice now, in the time that she had known these two, and there was something special about that dog, as he always wagged his tail and never seemed to let his age get in the way of barking until someone rolled a tennis ball towards him or stroked him between the ears. Elain wished that the bakery offered dog treats as well, so she could give some to the lovely pair to take home with them. She was sure that Blackjack would scoff them down in a heartbeat, and the image had her smile widening slightly.

In the corner of Elain's eyes, she saw the stranger lift his phone to his ear, answering the call with a voice that was as rich and smooth as heated honey, "Hello, Mor."

Remembering just how much she hated people staring at her, Elain once again turned her full attention onto what she was doing. She'd already made a fool of herself once today, and once was certainly enough.

The Marcus' paid for their brownies and wished her well, before heading out of the bakery. Elain found herself unsure of how to even behave around this man as he took his place in front of the till.

She'd been correct in her assumption that his eyelashes would be just as lovely as the rest of him; dark and long, curling naturally. No one should be gifted with eyelashes like that, least of all a man.

Close up, Elain also noted that his eyes were indeed a shade of brown; hazelnut, if she had to select a colour. They were what one of her sister's smutty books would certainly describe as 'fuck-me-eyes', and Elain felt her cheeks heaten slightly at her own observation.

Her mouth became suddenly dry as she said, "Hi, what can I get for you today?"

The corner of his lips seemed to twitch upwards, as if amused. "What would you recommend?" His voice was deep, a darkness to it that was more intriguing than scary. Everything about him reminded her of a well-crafted blade; easy to admire for it's beauty and power, and yet still sharp and deadly.

Answering a question with a question was completely new territory for her. Elain tried not to let her surprise show, even if she was flustered by his mere presence. "Oh," Was it that beginning of a smile that had caught her so off guard, or just the fact he'd asked for her opinion? She knew that it was wrong of her to make assumptions, but this man looked like someone who was used to taking directions from him, rather than listening to anyone else.

Her father's business partners had all been like that; their view was the only view.

Yet, this man stood there patiently, and it felt as if those deep brown eyes of his were counting her every breath. Once again, she was reminded of a panther on the hunt.

Why had she suddenly forgotten what they offered here? "Well," She made herself look towards the counter, pleading for her mind and mouth to work in sync again so she could splutter out more than one word at a time. "What are you in the mood for?"

His head tilted to the side slightly, a thoughtful action. Whether the move purposefully meant to or not, it altered the lighting around him, and sharpened his jawline even more and bringing out that stubble had covered the bottom half of his face. "Something sweet," He replied.

Was he used to women fumbling over their words in front of him? Most definitely, considering that it was a crime for someone to be that effortlessly attractive. In fact, several of the ladies seated around the bakery were stealing glances at him. Elain couldn't blame them, but for some reason, she found herself not appreciating their lingering looks, all the same.

For some inexplicable reason, she found herself biting her lower lip slightly, and his eyes seemed to track that small movement as well, yet his face remained neutral. "May I ask what your usual order would be? For reference, of course."

"Of course," He agreed, his tone equally as playful, which made her heart quicken even more. "Unfortunately, my go-to order won't serve as much help. I usually just go for a plain coffee. Perhaps, today, I was hoping to broaden my horizons."

Elain made a thoughtful sound from the back of her throat. "Well, you could go for a caramel hot-chocolate, with whipped cream, or a vanilla iced coffee. We do a really good chocolate cream frappuccino, too."

"And which would be your drink of choice?" He asked, his mouth revealing perfectly pearly white teeth as he spoke. Elain suspected that every square inch of him would be perfect, so the fact that he kept up good dental hygiene didn't come as much as a surprise.

Focus, Elain, she told herself, as the fact that she was still at work seemed to have slipped her mind. "Definitely the chocolate cream frappuccino." She wasn't a huge fan of caffeine, as it made her feel slightly restless. Her answer would have been fine enough, but she found herself blurting out, "With a slice of triple chocolate fudge cake."

His lips curled upwards even more, barely even half an inch, into an amused grin that seemed to add lightness to his entire face. Somewhere, angels would be crying over that face. "A chocolate fan, then."

"Through and through," She admitted, her teeth sinking into her bottom teeth slightly, an action which those hazel eyes tracked.

His chuckle was deep, as if it rumbled from within his chest, reminding her of a tiger's cuff. The noise itself caressed over her, like silk gliding over her skin. "I'll trust your advice."

Right, he was a customer, of which she had a whole line of. A customer who had made their order, which she was now to sort out, give him the price, and then probably never see him again. He was no doubt here on business, belonging to a world that she had once at a place in, and would no never again return to.

Quickly, she bagged up the cake and set to work on fixing up the frappuccino for him, thankful for the chance to turn away from that gaze that had her bones practically melting. Unfortunately, though, this also gave Briar the opportunity to pounce, and Elain just prayed that the sound of the machine was enough to block out the girl's overly enthusiastic question, "So, did you get his number yet?"

"I'm working," Elain bit out, and almost added that she was in no mindset to do such a thing. She'd practically sworn off any attempt at getting to know someone ever again, considering how tremendously awful her last relationship had ended up being. Handsome men were always appealing, but that didn't make them kind.

Even though the word 'handsome' seemed to be a discredit to the Adonis currently waiting for his order.

"And? The man's practically a god, and he hasn't taken his eyes off you since he got up here." Briar whispered back, in a voice that was nowhere near as quiet as it should have been.

Elain brushed her off with a flick of her hand, sealing the lid of the to-go cup shut before taking it to the counter in a cardboard carrier, where she also placed the bag containing the delicious slice of chocolate and fudge heaven. She gave the man his total, and she was slightly surprised that he reached for a wallet rather than paid with his phone, like most suit-dressed men did when they wandered in here.

But, when she quickly sorted out his change from the bill he handed her, he raised a hand and said, "Keep it. Consider it a thank you for the advice."

She raised a brow. "You haven't even tried them yet." She pointed out, and then realised how rude she must have sounded. But, as her eyes widened and she quickly went to apologise, he just flashed her another gleaming grin, effectively leaving her unable to form a sentence once again.

"I'm sure I'll like them just fine, Elain." He said, and for a moment, the sound of her name coming from his lips did unfamiliar, pleasant things to her entire body, making it feel tight and loose at the same time. She knew that her facial expression then changed to one of puzzlement, because he added softly, "The nametag helps."

The temptation to crouch behind the counter and never show her face again threatened to overwhelm her, as her cheeks heated even more. "Right," She glanced down at the tag, pinned to her apron as it always was. It just had her first name, with a little doodle of daisies that Feyre had added to it after her very first shift.

A streak of much needed boldness found her, as she turned her eyes back to his face. The face that really should belong on the cover of a magazine. "Then I suppose it's only fair that I know your name."

For a moment, he remained silent, as if taking in her words and mulling them over, considering whether or not just to brush off her statement. Her heart felt a lot heavier in her chest as she waited those few seconds.

"I think that would be fair," He agreed at last, and she exhaled a quiet breath, relieved that he hadn't thought she'd been too abrupt. "My name is Azriel."

Azriel. Intriguing, bold, and it suited him a way that it wouldn't suit anyone else. The only remaining logical part of her brain prevented her from saying his name out loud several times - and therefore make a bigger fool of herself than she already had. But, the temptation to taste that name across her tongue was there, and it refused to be silenced completely, so she quickly said, "Have a good day, Azriel."

He dipped his head to her in goodbye, taking his order in one large hand. On his finger sat a ring, but as this was his left hand, it wasn't a wedding band. Instead, the flat circular pendant had various triangular shapes engraved into the bottom half, which rose into three peaks with three stars settled above the highest point. The design was detailed and eye-catching, but then her eyes were drawn to another detail of his hand.

Elain tried not to stare when she noticed the scaring covering the back of his hand; it was as if the skin had been smeared with smoke that now lay frozen under the surface. It was...beautiful, in a way that rugged, harsh things could sometimes be, but her stomach twisted at the thought of what could have caused such a lasting injury.

If he noticed her staring or not, Azriel didn't show it. He simply gave Briar a little nod of his head before turning and walking out the cafe, either oblivious to the fact that almost everyone was watching his every step, or simply too used to it to acknowledge such a thing. Even when the door shut behind him, Elain had to forcibly snap herself back to her work.

But, as she greeted customer after customer, and even when she'd returned to her never-ending list of cupcake orders, she couldn't get the thought of Azriel's grin and his velvet voice out of her mind.

~0~O~0~

If she'd thought the ache in her hand was unbearable before, she certainly was a fool. Now, after finishing her eight hour shift and returning to the apartment that she shared with Nesta, Elain could barely manage any movement in her hand, as the muscles cramped in protest every time.

In fact, her entire body was aching from standing all day. She'd worked through her break, simply because there had been no way of getting through those cupcake boxes without doing so. Now, she was looking forward to nothing more than a hot shower and settling down in bed.

Whilst her older sister was away travelling, Elain had the apartment to herself, but she hadn't done much with the space. Nesta had been against going at first, and Elain had almost begged her to stay with her, fearing being alone again after everything that had happened. But, she loved her sister too much to hold her back, and insisted that she would be fine. The door itself had four locks on it, and Graysan had never made any attempt to seek her out beyond the initial texts and calls.

Almost as soon as she crossed the threshold, her phone went. If she didn't know better, she would suspect that Nesta kept tabs on her, as her sister always seemed to time her phone calls for when Elain returned home at the end of the day.

"Hey, Nes." Elain greeted her. "How are things?"

She pressed her phone into her shoulder and listened to her sister as she locked the door, checking each lock twice out of habit. An awful habit, and she knew she'd check them again before she went to bed, but she couldn't seem to break it.

Nesta quickly gave a briefing about her day, which had sounded very long and tiring, but Nesta never allowed herself to show even a hint of being worn out.

With Nesta Archeron, her passion for dance always remained, but she liked to try everything that it could involve, often meaning that she switched from one path to the other. Right now, she was travelling, teaching dancing across the country. No one questioned her whenever she wanted a change of scenery. For Nesta, someone who had always been able to talk their way into anything, it was easy enough, and directors and dance companies pretty much bowed to her. It was all Nesta's own talent and determination that had led her to be such a desirable asset to any studio, but the oldest of the Archerson sister's definitely ensured that things were exactly how she wanted them to be.

When Nesta asked about work, Elain skipped over her encounter with Azriel, simply because she didn't want to make it into something that it wasn't. He was just a man who'd come in for coffee and something to eat. Convinced she'd simply imagined the playfulness to his tone and the amused spark to his eyes as they'd spoken, Elain silently decided that it would certainly be best to not bring him up, especially in the company of her sister.

As any big sister tended to be, Nesta was protective - but fiercely so, so much that no boyfriend that Elain had ever had had been good enough. People always made the assumption that their father was the one that was impossible to please, but that was far from the truth. Nesta had a particular skill set of being able to reduce anyone to a pile of ashes with one of her infamous glares. Even their father's business partners, when they'd made the mistake of undeminding her, had been put in their place by Nesta's sharp tone and quick wit.

"At least tell me that bastard excuse of a man hasn't hassled you recently." Nesta said, and Elain could hear the sound of a wine bottle opening in the background on the other end of the phone. A long day for Nesta, but clearly one that deserved celebrating nonetheless. There was a coldness to her voice now, though, as if broadcasting Nesta's displeasure at even bringing up Graysen, even though she made a point to avoid saying his name out loud.

Elain swallowed, her throat turning suddenly dry. Her breakup with Graysen had certainly been messy, but it had been nothing compared to their relationship. At first, he'd seemed perfect - too perfect, in fact. Good-looking, humorous, a good businessman who took things seriously and was making his way up in the world. She couldn't believe it when he first sought her out at a public event, asking her to dance and then being her partner for the whole night. After that, he'd done everything to sweep her off her feet, much to the approval of Elain's father.

But, Elain had quickly learnt that it had all been a facade. Graysen had been controlling and possessive, traits that had worsened as their relationship had gone on. When Elain had retreated to this apartment for the night and had ended up breaking down as soon as the door had shut - as soon as she'd realised she'd been running away, and had only felt safe when she was far away from her boyfriend - had she realised she'd needed to find the strength to finally end it. Nesta had been furious, determined to hunt him down and reprimand him for reducing Elain to a crying mess, and Elain knew that if her sister had learnt the true darkness of that relationship, that Nesta would have been fuelled with enough rage to bring the entire city crumbling down.

Even to this day, months later, Elain had never admitted the true extent of Graysen's short temper. She'd managed to hide the marks on her body, which had meant layering up more than she normally would have done. Sometimes, she still jumped at sharp, sudden noises, and woke up in her new bedroom sweating and hardly able to breathe, until she'd switched her bedside lamp on and realised where she was.

"No, he hasn't." It had been a blessing, that Graysen had stopped trying to get in contact with her, and that his father had called him away to another city for business. Elain had no idea when he was due to return, or if he'd simply stay where he was. Even the other side of the world wouldn't be far enough away, but at least it would mean she would be able to walk through the streets without glancing over her shoulder constantly.

"Good," Wine was poured into what was probably a rather large glass. Sometimes, Nesta didn't even bother to do such a thing. Elain had caught her drinking from a bottle with a straw enough times to know it was a regular enough occurrence. Perhaps, her sister was expecting company tonight.

One of the reasons that Elain had sought out her sister when all this had happened hadn't just been because she'd needed somewhere to stay. As much as she loved Feyre, her younger sister was prone to asking questions. Feyre always had the best intentions at heart, but Nesta never pushed. Now, Elain knew Nesta would not continue to talk about Grayson, and that settled her somewhat. Even after all this time, the thought of him made her feel like she was going to throw up.

Besides, Elain couldn't help but be envious of Feyre's new relationship, even though she couldn't even stomach the idea of making such an attempt to be with someone again herself for a very long time. In the two separate occasions in which she'd witnessed Feyre with Rhysand, it was clear that they were completely smitten with each other, and that they would never find anyone else that they wanted to spend their lives with.

Nesta had gone through a stage of bringing home a different man every time she went out to the nightclubs, yet that had stopped the second she insisted that Elain move in with her. Elain had no doubt that when Nesta wanted that sort of company for the night, she had it in a hotel room somewhere, with the man paying for everything just for the chance to spend the night with her.

That's all men everywhere to Nesta - a way of having an itch scratched. She'd never entertained any sort of lasting relationship with anyone, even though their mother had been determined to raise them up to be desired matches for any established man.

Besides, Elain knew that if a stranger came to the apartment, she wouldn't feel comfortable regardless of the fact they were here with Nesta. Graysen had taken that away from her too; her innocent trust.

"Has Feyre invited you to that event her boyfriend's hosting?" Nesta asked, as Elain headed into the kitchen. Her stomach had been growling at her the second she'd left work, so she hunted through the cabinets in search of her favourite bag of chips to tide her over until she cooked something for herself. "What's his name again? Richard? Rylan?"

"Rhysand, which you knew perfectly well." Elain chided, with a roll of her eyes. Nesta never liked any of Elain and Feyre's past boyfriends, and although her instincts were certainly right about Graysen, Rhysand had done nothing to deserve the older Archeron's harsh judgement.

Besides, it wasn't as if Rhysand was a name that could easily be forgotten.

Like a certain stranger she'd met today…

Azriel. With his deep hazel eyes and that power that seemed to surround him, the way he held himself with such dominant grace, of course he would have a name that was so...unworldly. So utterly unique.

"Elain?" Nesta's snappy tone was enough to show that she'd probably been speaking for some time, whilst Elain had lost herself to her thoughts. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry," Elain said quickly. "What did you say?"

"I was still talking about the gala." Nesta said, but her voice had softened, as it always did for Elain. "You know, you don't have to go just because Feyre wants you to be there. Don't let her pressure you into anything."

Elain sighed softly. Her older sister was certainly protective, if so a little too much, but she couldn't blame Nesta for it. It had been Nesta, after all, that had taken her in, that had held her that first night when Elain could do nothing but cry and tremble on her bed. Nesta, who had slept in the bed with her that night, without making her talk about what happened until she was ready. Who would have stormed over to Greysen's penthouse if Elain had wished it.

When Elain had told her what had happened, her sister had looked absolutely murderous.

"I haven't decided yet." The invitation had certainly come out of the blue, considering she so rarely heard from Feyre nowadays. Now that her sister was in a relationship, it seemed Feyre had entered a new world, leaving them behind. Of course, Feyre would never intentionally make them feel as if they had been forgotten, but it was hard to not see it that way. Then again, out of the three of them, Feyre had always been the odd one out, ever since they had been children.

"She'll be ringing you in a bit." Nesta reminded her. "I just don't want you feeling that you have to entertain her about this. It'll be a long night filled with stuffy men in suits, with Rhysand giving speech about speech."

"It's a charity event," Elain reminded her, wanting her sister to remember that Rhysand was not a bad man, that their sister loved him so they should embrace him. Their family had already gone through enough. "I...I think I might go."

Nesta huffed, but there was nothing she could do as she was across the country, which she knew. Still, it clearly annoyed her that Feyre had used this opportunity to spend time with Elain alone without Nesta being the buffer.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Nes. I'm going to take a shower." The last thing she wanted to do was have an argument with her sister, when she missed Nesta every single day.

"Alright, I'll speak to you then." Nesta had never been a fan of goodbyes, had always avoided them for as long as Elain could remember. That was all she said before the conversation ended, but because Elain knew her sister as well as she did, she wasn't offended by the abrupt hanging up.

As she'd hoped, the hot shower did wonders for her tired, stiff muscles. Elain even took the time to use her favourite body scrub - raspberry scented - which left her skin feeling flawless and silky. Shower time had always been sacred to her, especially since she'd thrown herself into her work, because it allowed her a moment to simply breathe. Sometimes, if her heart needed it, she'd even blare out some songs whilst standing amongst the steam. That in itself had taken her weeks to feel up to doing, to letting go of herself and feeling comfortable enough to do so. Even now, it was a rarity.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror as she got out and felt something twist in the pit of her stomach.

She'd always been called beautiful, all her life. Apparently, she'd been an 'angel baby', that's what the midwife had called her practically as soon as she'd been born, anyways. Her mother had always told Elain, even from such a young age, that her looks alone would secure her a handsome, wealthy husband. Even before she'd been old enough to be allowed to wear make-up, family friends and the wives of her father's business partners had always complimented her looks.

Her face was perfectly symmetrical, but she'd often wished she'd had something about her that was striking, that was unique to only her. Even her eyes were quite ordinary; a soft shade of brown. Her sisters had inherited the Archeron eyes of stormy grey-blue.

Still, her somewhat plain eyes complimented her brown-and-gold hair, making the natural caramel highlights stand out more. Her skin had always caught the sun easily whenever they'd gone away on family vacations, and the tan usually remained over her body for most of the year, even in the heart of winter when sunny days ceased to exist.

Blessed with a fast metabolism, Elain's body had always been slender, but she'd grown to love the curves of her waist, the swell of her bosom, when as a child she'd hated them. When she had been younger and had spent her days exploring through the garden, she'd detested her thighs and breasts, feeling that because she had them, it was unexceptable for her to be playing around in the grass and mud. Sure enough, whenever her mother caught her doing such things, she was chided instantly, and told that such things were for boys.

As she'd grown, her curves had only enhanced, giving her an hourglass shape that had mostly been concealed beneath layered gowns. Her breasts weren't large by any stretch of the imagination, but they suited the rest of her body; the shaping of her thighs, her flat stomach. Of course, certain assets had been developed through home-workouts, as Elain had never had the confidence to go to an actual gym.

But nowadays, it was hard to look at her naked body and forget how it had easily bruised. She'd never forget Nesta's outrage the first time her sister had seen for herself the hand printed marks left behind on Elain's thighs and waist, her skin practically screaming that her body had been grabbed so tightly that it had terrified her. Her body had no longer belonged to her. It was something that Graysen had believed was his to have whenever he felt like it, regardless of wherever or not Elain was in the mood.

Her hands clenched the rim of the counter as her eyes shut. Every day, she tried not to think about him and what he'd done to her. Every day, she felt as if she was making progress, and then something would trigger her all over again. If she still couldn't bear the sight of her own body, would she ever be free of him?

When her phone went out again, she almost jumped out of her skin. Thankfully, it jolted her away from those painful memories, and she quickly wrapped a towel around herself before accepting the call. "Hey, Feyre,"

This call had been expected, but it was still nice to hear from her sister.

"Hey!" Feyre's voice was so light, so carefree and happy, that Elain knew she had Rhysand to thank for that. "I'm sorry for calling at this time. Have you had a good day?"

Although Feyre didn't know the full extent of why Elain had moved in with Nesta so suddenly, the youngest Archeron wasn't stupid. Feyre had no doubt pieced together what had happened with Graysen, maybe not fully, but enough that Feyre's concern was always so palpable.

Elain was the middle child, and yet her sisters always made her feel like the baby that needed fussing over.

"Yes, thank you." Elain steeled her spine, determined not to give her sister a reason to worry. Besides, as far as days went, a certain stranger had certainly brightened hers up, even though she knew she'd probably never see him again. "How are you?"

"Good, thanks. We've just gotten home from dinner." Feyre had been so young when their mother had died, so she had escaped the lessons that Madeleine Archeron had installed upon her two oldest daughters; how to glide into society and become the talk of every social event, how to merge with peers and catch the eye of any eligible bachelor that could offer them stability and wealth along with a hand in marriage.

Feyre had never been interested in that sort of thing, as she usually spent her days covered in paint. But, Rhysand was a well respected businessman, so Feyre had found herself thrust back into the world she'd had little experience in. Whether it was her love for the man she was with, or the fact that perhaps Feyre would have always been suited for that lifestyle, Elain had never picked up any sadness or discomfort in her sister's tone whenever Feyre brought up whichever event Rhysand had whisked her away to.

"I miss you," Feyre admitted, which did take Elain by surprise, considering all three sisters had seemed to have inherited the inability to speak comfortably of their emotions, something from both of their parents. "I wanted to check to see if you've paid any more thought to the fundraiser, on Friday?"

Straight to the point, as always. "I have thought about it." A lie, really. She'd probably only given it a few minutes of consideration, but that was partly because she knew if she thought about it for too long, she'd scare herself out of it. "I think I'd like to come."

There was a sound of genuine glee from the other end of the phone. "Perfect! I've found the most loveliest of dresses for you. I could never pull it off in a million years, but as soon as I saw it, I thought of you. I'll have someone drive me to your apartment tomorrow so we can see how it fits."

Elain's throat went dry. Of course, her sister would have a driver, probably on Rhysand's insistence so Feyre never had to fight her way through the crowded streets or hail a cab anymore. But, the thought of her younger sister providing her with a dress was a knock to Elain's pride, even though she had to admit, she had nothing to wear that would be acceptable at such an event.

"It'll be nice to see you, Feyre." She ended up saying, silently agreeing to the plan that was being put in place. With her phone pressed against her shoulder, she quickly found her shorts and tank top, her preferred sleeping clothes.

She remained on the phone to her sister whilst she made herself a quick dinner. Once Feyre admitted she had further plans with her boyfriend with the rest of the night, Elain said her goodbyes before clearing up after herself and retreating to her bedroom. Leaving the door open with the light from the hallway shining through, Elain switched on her bedside lamp and picked up her book from where it had been lying on top of the other pillow.

Whilst Nesta preferred the smuttier choices of books, Elain always sought out the ones that were filled with adventure. She preferred plot with romance, rather than the other way around. Usually, she'd prefer to watch a movie, however tonight she needed to dewind, and books were perfect for that.

She considered reading an escape, and she fully immersed herself in whatever world the pages in front of her created. Her absolute favourite genre was fantasy, especially if it involved ridiculously attractive, highly-strong Fae males.

With her plate of food beside her, Elain ate as she read, relaxing back into the pillow behind her. Despite her skills at baking, cooking was something she struggled with. She was never experimental, simply because she didn't trust herself not to ruin it. Even though her meal tonight was plain, she liked settling down in bed with food and a book, as it steadied her and helped her settle for bed. She also hoped that if she concentrated on a fictional world enough, her imagination would push away any chance of nightmares finding her.

Unfortunately, that was never the case.

~o~O~o~

Okay, first chapter done!

I apologise for any spelling mistakes or grammar errors, I have rewritten this about three times already and checked it for mistakes as best I can, but it's very possible that some have slipped through the gaps!

Anyways, this is our first introduction to our main character, Elain. I really am going to enjoy writing about her from my perspective, as we have yet to get to know her in the books. Later on in the story, Azriel will become a more central POV, and we will meet the other characters very soon!

I really hope you enjoyed!

- E x