Eris Vanserra | Ignis Aurum ✓

Chapter 4: ERIS

Four months. Four months since that damn spark in his chest had exploded and had since then found no rest. It was like Alba had been imprinted on his mind. It was insanity what this was turning into. The High Lord was sure he had lost all sense of sanity.

To say the longing was distracting him from his High Lord business, from his overwhelming and new High Lord business, would be an understatement. He could hardly direct one clear thought to his work, every thought went straight to her. Alba.

It was only the hate, the rage towards this female that rooted him, that told him this longing was wrong. The hate obviously did not come only from her being Helion's second in command, no, it still came from the fact that she had to take the Illyrian bastard to her bed all those years ago. Another female that rather chose an Illyrian brute than Eris—the same fucking Illyrian brute.

Alba's indifference concerning the fact that Eris had to wanted Nesta Archeron a few years ago (Eris was sure Helion had told Alba about it) made some fiery rage burn in his veins and only proved to him more that he should keep his distance—that he should finally draw the line and stop hoping or believing in what could be. Alba was anyways engaged to another brute who did not even deserve her. As if he deserved her, Eris thought to himself.

Still, he could deny and argue against those things as much as he wanted to, but feeling her slim, delicate fingers wrap around his callused, large hand definitely made some small part in his heart, some small part he had kept locked away for centuries, flutter and warm.

"There we are, the Mountain Pal—"

"No need for explanations, I have been here before," Alba interrupted the High Lord, practically ripping her hand out of his and immediately stalking away, adding the perfect swing to her round hips. This flimsy piece of clothing barely covered anything, leaving little to imagination and driving said High Lord slightly crazy. Forming coherent sentences when having her like this in front of him nearly became a sheer impossibility for the new High Lord. What bothered him even more were the other males and especially her fiancé seeing her like this all the time.

"Morrigan, good to see you," Alba chirped, wrapping the —in Eris' mind— unfaithful female into her long, tanned arms. Brilliant, Eris thought to himself, obviously she was friends with her. With only as much as the dip of her chin Morrigan greeted Eris, oddly eyeing him up and down when he approached Alba.

"Did you arrive together or were you travelling together?" Eris heard Morrigan ask his travel companion when they linked arms, strutting through the corridors. He was a male of manners, so his kept his eyes trained on Alba's lower back, not daring to glance any lower.

"To my utter dismay...the latter. But at least I had someone to carry the bags." Alba chuckled, quickly glancing over her shoulder and raising one eyebrow at the High Lord of Autumn.

Yes, he was her packhorse, carrying those damn heavy bags filled with books, but seemingly he did not really mind—had even offered to carry them.

This palace was just there to show off, Eris was sure about that. The large doors opened and the three of them stepped inside, being met with a fresh breeze of air that smelled like sea and citrus.

With the first sound of a sneer Eris snapped his gaze into the direction of the large table in the middle of the room. Internally he rolled his eyes and swallowed a groan. Memories flashed in front of his eyes. Memories of Alba and the Illyrian brute. How he had probably touched her. Not in the way he would touch her—soft and gentle, rougher when she wanted to.

Alba shook Feyre's hand when Eris walked up to her and the table, greeting all of them with the dip of his chin.

"High Lord." Cassian gave him a smirk which he somehow wished he could rip out with his bare hand. "Long time no see. How is the Autumn Court doing?"
Eris didn't hesitate to answer, a grin forming on his face. "Amazing, of course."