Chapter 493

Watching the back and forth between Nesta and Cassian all evening had been entertaining enough, but Lucien wondered when it was going to end. He had overheard the Illyrian telling Nesta that he would be returning to the Night Court with Rhysand and Feyre, and Lucien would have been able to read the nervousness in the other male's face from across the room. He wasn't across the room, however. Lucien was seated on the couch directly beside that upon which Nesta sat.

"I had figured as much." Nesta said, her eyes lifting to Cassian hovering over her.

"I… I have… Rhys has asked that I…" Cassian sighed, "I have work to do."

"Yes." Nesta's face and voice gave nothing of her emotion away, as usual.

"That doesn't mean that I… I will be able to be here quickly, should you need me…"

"I know." Nesta tucked a stray strand of her hair back. "It seems unlikely that there will be another catastrophe here that would require outside interference, though… or an Illyrian army." If Lucien didn't know better, he would have thought Nesta had made a joke. If she had, however, it appeared lost on Cassian who just looked miserable.

"I hope that is true." The Illyrian said, sounding regretful as he straightened. "Nevertheless, if you have any need of me…"

"I know how to get in contact with you." Nesta sounded softer now, more reassuring, as if she had realised that Cassian hadn't seen the lighter side of her comments. "If I need you for any reason, I will call."

"Any reason?" there was a quirk to Cassian's smile then, and Nesta made a dismissive noise in her throat.

"You heard me."

Lucien pretended he hadn't been watching, and turned his eyes on the fire nearby. He didn't know exactly where his mate's elder sister and the big Illyrian sat in their relationship, if that was even what they wished to call it, and he didn't think that anyone with a sane mind would risk asking the question. At least, not directly of either of the two in question. He might ask Elain, however, or Feyre before she left the Day Court in the morning.

Before Lucien could even make a plan to that end, Mor approached and threw herself down onto a nearby couch as Feyre and Rhysand followed her. Wondering for the briefest of moments where his mate had gotten to, Lucien smiled when Elain suddenly appeared before him and he shifted slightly to make room for her to squeeze into his seat beside him. He would never, in all of eternity, grow tired of having the privilege of being able to wrap his arms around Elain's waist, and hold her carefully to himself, in the company of others. He would never grow tired of knowing that their eyes were on him, and on Elain, and he would never grow tired of their knowledge that she was his. Even though this was Elain's family, and nobody was jealous of Lucien's claim, or wished to claim her themselves, they still knew that she was his, that he was hers, and that alone sent a wave of satisfaction through Lucien. That possessiveness was never going to go away, he was realising that, and he really did not care.

"You have a question…" Elain had turned her head and whispered in Lucien's ear. Shivers moved through him at the sensation and he nodded, turning his own head to press his nose to her throat, leaning his forehead against her. "What is it?" He heard her smile without having to see her face.

"Mm…" Tilting his head Lucien lifted his lips to her ear, not wanting to be overheard. "Nesta and Cassian…" he barely breathed their names, but Elain heard him and understood. She nodded slightly and turned to meet his eyes.

"Why don't we find out?"