You and Cassian had a long history, to say the least, he enjoyed chasing you- and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the Illyrian’s attention. Large enough to engulf you in a hug, funny (or not funny, according to Mor) and fiercely protective of his people.

You had stayed behind with Amren, to protect the city against another attack should Hybern launch one.

You didn’t expect them to come back so damaged, so bloody. And without Feyre. You were grateful, when you saw Azriel and Cassian bloody, that you had inherited your grandmother’s Healing abilities. At least stopping Azriel from dying first, before tending to Cassian’s wings.

The days flew by, you’d gone between Cass and Az, staying by Cass for the prolonged healing of his wings, weaving the flesh in your mind like strings of silk.

Everyone could tell it was taking its toll, and had repeatedly offered to have another healer come. But you were stubborn like that.

Cassian had caught you dozing off while the two of you were eating, and was less than happy about it. So, once you were done, he pulled you into his bed. Not that you could’ve protested, you were exhausted. “You need to sleep, {{user}}.” He coo’ed, stroking your hair and holding you in place despite your protests. “You can heal me more tomorrow, just rest.”